


Consequences

by yourloved



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Love, Multi, Pregnancy, Sister-Sister Relationship, Teen Angst, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 81,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourloved/pseuds/yourloved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a bad break-up, Arya has a steamy night with a hot bartender. What she doesn't realise is that there could be a lot of consequences to this one night stand...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came to my mind!! let me know if you all want me to continue!!

Prologue

The heat emanating from the club was almost burning her alive as she slowly danced among the throngs of people grinding. Suffocating her. The lights were too bright and the drinks not strong enough for her desire to be drunk.  
She didn’t know why she let Sansa talk her into coming to this stupid club tonight. She just wanted to be at home, under her covers with Nymeria, her little wolf, snuggling into her side. Perhaps she could have watched another stupid horror movie that would frighten her so much that it would adequately distract her from the current state of her life for at least its duration.  
But Sansa had been the voice of reason, saying with a look of pointed wisdom very like their mother’s “Arya Stark, just because you and Ned broke up, you are not permitted to wallow in self pity for another year. It is your 18th birthday. Your now legally an adult. You are going to come out and celebrate you finally being of legal age with Margaery and I because that is what you would have wanted to do if you weren’t stuck with a broken heart of Ned.”  
So Arya had given in, despite all the groaning that she had voiced immediately on hearing Sansa’s declaration, and allowed Sansa to bathe her, dress her and make her up like her own little doll until she sparkled like something beautiful.  
However, now that she was standing amidst the pulsating crowds, all she could think of was bed. And food.  
Bed without Ned though, she thought glumly. In retrospect, she supposed that she hadn’t even really been that happy with Ned as her boyfriend. He was certainly sweet. A blonde-haired, baby-faced boy who had been the first boy who had ever told her how truly beautiful she was. But now that they had split up, as he was going overseas to Qarth for collage and wanted to be free of a relationship, she had realised that she was only truly upset as she had grown truly complacent. Him breaking up with her had been a greater blow to her scheduling and general comfort that to her heart. He had never been able to challenge her. He had been too engulfed in her multitude of fire to have any of his own.  
She stopped dancing and began to make her way over to the bar where Sansa and Margaergy were chatting with a couple of guys who were, predictably, buying all their drinks for them. Arya rolled her eyes. While this was a rare thing for the demure and completely innocent Sansa, Margaergy would most likely pull down her top and hike her skirt up even more if it got her free drinks and more attention. Arya loved her but that was just the kind of thing she would do. Sansa, whose eyes were slightly glazed over, spotted her by the time she had squeezed past the majority of people between them.  
“ARRRYYYAAA!!” her sister cried in an overly excited manner, as she waved her hand to call her over to the small group she was keeping company with.  
Arya looked at both girls, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at her sister’s intoxicated state. Sansa never got drunk. She was the perfect child. Arya herself had been drunk before Sansa’s dainty little lips had even touched a not so virgin lemon lime and bitters. But nonetheless, Arya kept going straight toward Sansa. Someone had to watch her. Someone had to watch out for her.  
When Arya got close enough, Sansa darted forward in eagerness, draping her long arm around Arya’s shoulders, pulling her into the small little group she had formed with the two random guys.  
“Boysss, this is my beautiful, little sister, Arya! Arya, boys,” Sansa slurred, seeming very pleased with herself for being the catalyst of such an introduction.  
Both boys looked Arya eagerly up and down, seeming thrilled with her as they both put out their hands to formally introduce their names. Arya was polite but indifferent, immediately wanting to drag Sansa away and go dance or drink or both. Both men were sleazy jerks who would say anything to get a girl into a bed. Arya could see it from a mile away even if Sansa could not. She had always been that way, easily to quickly judge and understand a person, recognise evil, whereas Sansa had always looked for the good within a person. It was a difference between them that had bought them to strife. Thus, while Arya was alone, Sansa always got hurt and Arya did not want to have to deal with that mess again if Sansa hooked up with a sleazy guy only to be crying into her toilet bowl the next day, regretting her own actions and any consequences that they may have.  
Margaery instantly noticed her suddenly glacier demeanor even if Sansa in her drunk state did not and shuffled herself between them to stop any of Arya’s overt displays of misplaced anger from frightening away her continuous stream of free drinks. On seeing Margaery shoo away the boys to where she could more adequately control them, Sansa grabbed Arya’s hand, pulling her toward the bar presumably for another drink.  
Arya immediately slowed down, dragging Sansa backwards with her, attempting to prevent her from buying another drink. The last thing that Arya wanted was to deal with a vomiting Sansa anytime soon. Or worse a grouchy and completely hung-over Sansa. But Sansa pulled her arm insistently until they had reached the bar. Sansa was surprisingly strong for such a little, thin person.  
Once Sansa hit the bar that was it, she ordered shot after shot for both girls while constantly sending more drinks to wherever Margaery was. Arya swallowed them happily for the most part laughing at Sansa’s poor attempts of drinking vodka straight.  
This is nice, Arya thought in contentment, Sansa letting go, us getting alone, this is very nice. It had not always been that way, often as children they had fought tooth and nail against everything the other wanted. The two girls were as different as the moon and sun, Sansa a princess, girly, perfect and polite, while Arya was a tomboy who was blunt, brash and brutal in all her dealings. But as they matured, aging into wisdom, they had grown to respect the other. Arya respecting Sansa’s poise and grace while Sansa recognised Arya’s personal strength and natural intelligence. Jon may still be Arya’s favourite sibling followed by Bran but Sansa now held her own significant and special place in Arya’s heart.  
Sansa was giggling about a hot bartender out of Arya’s sight range when she came back into focus.  
“Well sister, should I go for it?” she whispered in what was truly a loud.  
“What, go for the bartender?” Arya murmured back attempting to find this man Sansa was talking of, “If you won’t regret it tomorrow, sure, but otherwise consider what you want carefully.”  
Sansa turned her blue eyes toward, examining Arya with a keen social intelligence.  
“Do you regret being with Ned?” she asked.  
Arya immediately shook her head.  
“No.”  
“Exactly, just because you get hurt it doesn’t mean that you regret something. It means you grew.”  
On imparting that small bit of advice Sansa straightened up and walking directly, though albeit slighting wincingly, toward a bunch of bartenders.  
Arya felt a rush of admiration flush through her as she watched her sister walk away.  
“That was a good piece of advice now, wasn’t it?” a voice said softly from behind her.  
Arya spun around, fists clenched in anger at the eavesdropper, to see that a man standing behind the bar drying glasses was who the deep voice belonged to.  
Arya raised an eyebrow.  
The man held his hands up, “I could not help but hear,” he immediately claimed, “Wise girl though.”  
Arya narrowed her eyes at him assuming him to be another guy who wanted to get into Sansa’s pants. He smiled shyly at her narrowed eyes and suspicious look.  
Arya sighed and rolled her eyes, plopping herself ungracefully down in the barstool in front of her.  
“Yes I suppose she is,” she murmured in a thoughtful tone and downturned eyes.  
“What’s wrong with you?” the man piped up again.  
Arya looked up through reproachful eyes.  
“What is this, a therapy session,” she growled in annoyance.  
“Don’t people always want to lay all their problems on bartenders in movies?” he said grinning toothily in cheekiness.  
“Life is not a movie,” Arya said flatly.  
“Then why are you more beautiful than any movie star,” he flirted shyly.  
Arya blushed slightly at that, but maintained her uncaring fascade by rolling her eyes at the cheesiness of his comment. Sansa would have known what to say but Arya could only mutter a soft “stupid” at the man.  
He laughed, the whites of his teeth gleaming under the florescent lighting of the club, and apologised for his corny line.  
“But in all seriousness, what is wrong,” he said handing her another drink that she hadn’t noticed he’d been getting.  
Arya sighed glumly and looked up at the man. He was half covered in the shadows of the club, all she could make up was a dark figure, a tall, well built figure and half a face, just so she could see his expressions.  
“Well, it just been a bad month,” she said.  
“Why?’ he probed.  
She shrugged to which his eyes looked disbelieving and his eyebrows were raised.  
She smiled half-heartedly.  
“Well if it has been a shit month, then you deserve another drink,” he said, “So what will it be, milady? A cocktail? Something with vodka or rum? What would you like?”  
“Anything,” she said vaguely.  
He quirked a smile at her and began to make something that looked pretty evil considering the bottle that he kept getting off the shelf behind him.  
She looked up at him, deciding to have a truly good look at him.  
His black hair only stood out against his forehead due to the darkness of the club atmosphere. His jaw was sharp and chiselled to perfection around his straight white teeth. And the only bit of his visage that remained obscure was his eyes, only the white sides of them glowing against his tanned skin.  
All in all, a remarkably handsome though eyeless man, Arya thought.  
Arya was brought out of her musings by the drink that he had been in the process of making being set down in front of her. Arya automatically reached down to the small purse she carried for money but he held up his hands.  
“Its on the house,” he said smiling, “If you tell me your name”.  
Arya raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes.  
“So if I didn’t tell you my name, then I would have to pay for the drink,” she tested smirking.  
The man laughed, the whites of his teeth luminous against the darkness surrounding him. It was a low musical chuckle that sent shivers down her spine.  
“I probably should not reveal it, but I still wouldn’t make you pay. It’s the least I can do for a beautiful women who looks so sad,” he uttered.  
“So what is your name?” he said as he held out his hand toward her.  
Arya was taken aback. How was it a man who barely knew her could tell her feelings so accurately when half the time even her family couldn’t?  
On feeling this, Arya leaned over the bar and took his hand, ignoring its warmth and the tousle marks on it that she knew would feel so nice running up and down her thighs.  
“I’m Arya,” she offered with a small smile, shaking his hand.  
“Gendry.”  
Both paused as they looked at each other, an intense air coming over them as they stared into each others eyes. However as quickly as the moment came it left as Gendry’s concentration was pulled from her to the other side of the bar.  
“If you will excuse me Arya, I will be back when I can be,” he said, quickly moving to the other end of the bar leaving Arya alone.  
It was nice to be flirted with, Arya reflected, nice to get her mind off her currently situation, her current loneliness. Particular with such an attractive man as this Gendry was.  
“Sorry I’m back,” Gendry said reappearing, “But you came here with that red head right?”  
Arya felt her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach.  
Of course he’s interested in Sansa, she thought angrily, who isn’t, Sansa is the beautiful, perfect once.  
Arya could almost feel the shame welling in her eyes, transforming into tears of dissatisfaction and disappointment. But nonetheless she knew she had to answer quickly.  
She looked up, trying to maintain a blank but slightly concerned face.  
“Yes I did,” she said, “Why?”  
“Oh, its just she is literally about to walk out the door with this massive guy and I honestly don’t know if that’s really safe,” he said reasonably.  
Arya’s eyes instantly snapped around to look for Sansa, grabbing her phone at the same time.  
Her eyes scanned for one of the two girls who had dragged her to this club in the first place. She could not find Sansa though she spotted Margaery dancing with a couple of guys unknown to Arya. However she was by herself rather than with Sansa unsurprisingly. Suddenly there was a vibration from her hand and she looked down to see a message from Sansa.  
Gone home with Sandor (You call him dog remember?), he has a car. See you at home tomorrow for Sunday Lunch, DON’T FORGET xx  
After texting back an okay, Arya turned back to the bar to see Gendry glancing inquisitively at her.  
“My sister got one of her friends to drive her home. She was probably tired and almost going to pass out,” she muttered to him.  
“She’s your sister?” Gendry said sounding extremely surprised, “Talk about a lack of family resemblance. And I thought my blonde haired very mum and I looked nothing alike.”  
“Yes, yes. We are very different in everything. If you talked to me for her number, you may as well know I’m not giving it to you,” Arya sighed in exasperation. It would hardly be the first time such a thing had happen to her.  
Gendry looked taken aback.  
“You think I want your sisters number, Gods no. I mean she’s pretty and all but not someone I would want. I prefer short but very leggy brunettes” he said winking at the end of his sentence.  
Arya laughed at that, to which she could have sworn he blushed at.  
“Well that’s probably awkward because I hate anyone tall,” she japed, “but you have nice arms, so you can still redeem yourself.”  
Gendry smiled cheekily and leaned close to her so he was whispering in her ear, his breath electrifying the shell of it.  
“Stick around until closing time. Then I will really try and truly redeem myself,” he murmured naughtily.  
She smiled.  
She didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or loneliness, or even rekindled desire and want, that possessed her to wait around the last few hours of the club closing until Gendry’s shift would be over but she did it. She waited past the club empting out. Past Margeary leaving with two men hanging off her arms. Past a guy drunkenly fumbling his way toward the door only to vomit all over the exit to the room. All the way until Gendry was the only one there, putting up the last barstood on top of the bar apart from hers in order to assist the cleaning ladies that would surely arrive in the morning.  
Finally, he turned and smiled a gorgeous smile directly at her. She smiled back shyly. Slowly he walked towards her, only to veer slightly left towards the massive stereo behind them.  
The DJ had shut it down not long ago and left taking all his own music, that which made the floor thump, with him. But Gendry plugged in his own iPod and adjusted some buttons, twisting and turning until a soft song came on filling the room. Gendry put his iPod down and looked over at her, a crooked smile spread over his smile as he walked back toward her, swaying slightly.  
Arya vaguely recognised the song as something she had heard before but not a piece of music that particular stood out in her memory at all. Maybe she would have to look it up now.  
Gendry, who had made his way to her, extended a hand to her, motioning her to get up and dance with him.  
Arya immediately shook her head.  
“Come on, please,” he quickly responded to her immediate dismissal of the idea, “I love this song.”  
“Are you kidding?” she whipped back, “I excel at things like fencing and sports, but the one thing I cannot do is dance.”  
He laughed at that and quickly grasped her arm, pulling her to her feet.  
“Gendry, please no,” she beseeched, her face showing an extremely horror-struck expression.  
“There is no one here,” he said gently, “please for me, just dance with me. I cannot dance at all either.”  
Arya frowned.  
“Fine,” she snapped allowing him to bring her into his arms, “But if you are horrified by my dancing or die because I step on you or kick you one too many times, you have only yourself to blame.”  
He laughed at that, the sound reverberating through his chest and then through her due to her being held so tightly against him. She shuddered but still aided him in his dancing by gently threading her arm around his neck, clasping them into each other.  
They more swayed than danced properly. It was not something someone like Sansa would have done, but there was a romance that hung in the air that would not have been repellent to any person. He hummed as they dance, a trait Arya found endearing, sweet.  
At first they were quiet, simply soaking the atmosphere that they had created, however soon Gendry questioned Arya on her declaration of being a fencer.  
Soon the song changed but the conversation continued steadily, neither party wanting to end the night.  
“So your brothers would teach you to play sports by continuously throwing balls at your head” Gendry asked, laughing profusely.  
Arya giggled back.  
“Yes. You see as the tomboy of the family I was always playing with them, trying to get in on their games and sneaking around after them. Normally they didn’t mind, I mean my favourite brother Jon never minded. But my eldest brother did mind, as they got older. So he use to occasionally throw things like balls or rackets at me until I left,” she explained laughing again, “It wasn’t meant to be mean, I was just very annoying as a 6 year old.”  
“We all are,” he grinned back, “But it was your job as a younger sibling to drive your other siblings to insanity I suppose.”  
“I like to think so.”  
They grew quiet as they continued to dance very slowly. Arya barely reached Gendry’s shoulder with the super high heels Sansa had forced her into earlier that night, but when she removed them to keep dancing, she just hit his chest.  
He chuckled at her small stature and she immediately pushed his chest in annoyance which only served to make him laugh more.  
“You know I really enjoy your shortness,” he said.    
“Well that is very awkward because I still detest your tallness,” Arya sniped back dryly.  
He laughed again and looked down, his eyes meeting her. They struck Arya then, his eyes. Before she had not paid as much attention to them but now that they were directed straight at her, she was utterly mesmerised. His eyes were a deep blue, a beautiful blue that seemed to change within a moment. One second they seemed a darker blue like the stormiest skies or the depths of the oceans, while the next they were as aqua as the purest waters in the Greek isles. They were made of a blue hue that was not only worth a second look but a million more. Arya was completely entranced by them, uttered enraptured.  
Gendry ceased laughing on noticing her look. His face instantly seemed to transform into what she imagined was a mirror image of desire.  
He lowered his head towards her. She knew this was coming; it had been since he had first talked to her and despite herself, Arya knew it was not an unwelcome advance.  
When his lips touched hers she felt something make its way through her. Perhaps a shudder, but it was too utterly electrifying to be just a shudder. Ned had never made her feel like this, like she was a load of gun power to which he was the spark that could make her explode. It was invigorating.  
His tongue was warm as it nudged at her lips begging for entrance in a sinful way that caused tingling to shoot through her lips, just like his hand, which fell around her waist.  
It was then that Arya decided to let it all go, unleash her own passion, her own desire, if only to see where it led her.  
So allowed his tongue to guide through her mouth, fighting with it herself, demanding the same dominance she desired in life to be within her kissing. Gendry also seemed to enjoy her enthusiasm as he quickly caught on, pulling her closer until he had lifted her up, pulling her into him, sitting her on the bar she had not realised was so close to them. It was a surprise until she realised why he had done it.  
Breaking off their kiss for a second, she said indiginantly “You put me up here like some stupid doll, so that you wouldn’t have to bend your head to kiss me.”  
He laughed throatily as he kissed his way down her throat, sucking particularly on pulse points that made her shiver in anticipation.  
“Ever consider it was also heavily for your advantage rather than just mine,” he said nibbling at a particularly sensitive point just below her collarbone causing a whimper to escape her throat.  
“Shut up, stupid,” she half growled, half moaned, “And don’t you dare stop doing that.”  
He chuckled softly and moved his mouth from her neck back to her lips, touching and teasing her once again.  
Arya had never felt so desired before. All she could think of was Gendry. He consumed her as he slowly made his way from her lips to her neck. As he pushed her back on to the bar that she had been previously perched on so she was lying flat on her back. He continued to kiss from her lips to her neck, and down further again until he reached a particularly sensitive point just beneath her belly button. A shiver raced through her body as he licked lower yet.  
She raised her head off the table, peeking down at him. Almost as though he sensed her eyes piercing the top of his head, Gendry looked straight up into her eyes, keeping complete contact as he slithered further down her body. Gone was the blue that had rested in Gendry’s eyes, now there was barely a speck of blue as the black pupil had taken up most of the eye due to his excessive want.  
Gods that’s hot, Arya thought as he continued to kiss her, but rather switching to kissing up her thighs instead, lathering each with such affection that she couldn’t help but purr underneath such treatment. A very unlike her action as she was so often called a she-wolf. She barely noticed him pushing her skirt up around her stomach and pulling her underwear down due to the divine feeling of his fluttery kisses.  
But if she had felt pleasure at mere butterfly kisses, nothing would compare to the exquisite gratification that him licking the entire length of her.  
It was if he knew just where to lick, suck and bite. And it was if she only knew how to scream in utter ecstasy.  
She had never known what this felt like.  
She could not think rationally. All she could do was shriek because it felt way too fucking good.  
When he was finished, or more specially she was, Gendry straightened up, bracing his elbows either side of Arya’s knees that were still shaking from receiving so much pleasure. He had possibly the biggest smirk Arya had ever encountered. His own satisfaction was inscribed across his face.  
He pulled her up toward him, leaning his forehead against hers as she attempted to catch her breath.  
“Come back to my apartment with me,” he breathed to her in an almost pleading tone.  
She barely even considered it, immediately nodding her approval and sliding down on to her unstable feet only to instantly understand his pleading tone as his arousal was hard against her.  
She smirked at him as she rubbed slightly against his erection, laughing as his eyes quickly glazed over in pleasure.  
He looked back down at her and grabbed her wrist.  
“Quick I need you,” he whispered, leaning over the bar to get something before placing his arm around her waist to usher her towards the door.  
Eagerly, she followed him.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
It felt as though her mother had decided she really did prefer Sansa over her merely because she was always more of a morning person, and thus decided to wake Arya up by banging, or was it pounding, pots and pans together.  
Arya groaned when she realised that not only was some family member, as sometimes there were just too many of them for Arya’s liking, making too much noise but it was also making her head ache. And her mouth was absolutely dry. She was completely parched.  
Suddenly, memories came flooding into the forefront of her mind, which thumped with an excruciating pounding. Like a drill be shoved into her frontal lobe.  
Memories of pleasure. Another body that had curved with hers, worked so sinfully against hers inducing her to such a heights of gratification that Arya had never known before. After leaving the club, the taxi ride had been one of anticipation and naughtiness with much more touching that should have occurred in a taxi in which the driver could easily glance into his mirror and see any event happening there. The tension had built so much that they hadn’t even made it to the bed their first time. But at least they had made it to the bedroom where Gendry had proceeded to have her against the door. But eventually they had made it into bed.  
She felt movement, a weight on her. An arm bringing her closer to cuddle her like a teddy bear.  
Gendry, she thought, beginning to open her eyes to look for the very man himself wondering if it was him holding her close like she was more than a one night stand.  
She shifted so he was sleeping right in her vision.  
He looked like a young boy when asleep. Despite his jaw and pronounced cheekbones still being prominent in his face, his closed eyes and peaceful expression lent him a youth that wakefulness lacked.  
He is beautiful, she thought, handsome, someone any girl would want.  
And he had wanted her.  
Her heart warmed at that. She smiled, stretching her hands over her head, turning her head around the room. Only when her eyes landed on the time did she panic.  
It was already 12:50. She was meant to be at lunch with her entire family at 1. Her mother would kill her if she was late. No she was going to kill her if Arya didn’t get there soon.  
Glancing at Gendry to see he was still asleep, Arya quickly but sneakily distangled his arm from her and jumped out of the bed and proceeded to run around the entire room and then the whole apartment looking for her clothes. She found most of her clothes in the living room, strewn across the couch with her favourite black bra hanging from the fan on the roof.  
How the hell did that get there, she thought struggling to remember the night of a drunk Arya.  
She quickly ran back into the bedroom looking for her underwear, the only piece of her clothing that was yet to be found. She looked over at a sleeping Gendry, lying at an angle that showed his adorable sleeping face. Before she could get too caught up staring at him she ran into the bathroom to change into her clothes without her underwear.  
Shit, she thought, how did I end up here? He’s gorgeous but I have never hooked up with some random. Never really hooked up with anyone like that.  
She looked up very quickly when she thought she heard a bang. She looked around for an escape.  
Quietly she opened the bathroom door, slipping her head out to see if Gendry was awake. As luck would have it, he was still soundly asleep in his bed. So she crept out of the room and down the hall, stopping only to reach for her purse and phone on the counter, and out of the door.  
As soon as Arya stepped on the pavement she reached for a cigarette, craving a hit of nicotine. Hailing a cab she quickly gave the driver the address of her family’s house, snubbing out the cigarette as she went.  
Well that was one way to get over Ned, Arya thought dryly as the cab surged into the traffic.  
Arya allowed her head to loll on her seat, a hazard of hardly sleeping the night before, a lazy smile sliding over her face.  
But it was totally worth it, she thought remembering the bliss, very worth it. It was like they had fit in all ways. They had never met, yet he seemed to know what thrilled her, made her body hum with satisfaction.  
By the time she reached the hotel where her family was staying, she had dozed off, only to be shook by the driver demanding his payment.  
On giving him the money, she walked languidly into the hotel.  
“Morning Miss Stark,” the doorman said opening the door for her, smiling.  
“Morning Bill,” she said smiling back, “Is everyone here?”  
The doorman laughed.  
“Yes Miss Stark. You are the last to arrive. As per usual though so I wouldn’t worry too much. But I would change before you go up, even I can tell those are last nights clothes,” he said winking.  
She laughed and nodded resuming her walk once more towards the elevator.  
She didn’t have any clothes, so she straightened hers out and put on the coat she was glad Sansa forced her to bring in a fit of maternal instincts.  
On finally reaching the penthouse, she stepped out calmly only to be enveloped in a hug by her mother, who must have been either waiting for in antipation or notified of her arrival. Considering Catelyn’s sometimes-overbearing motherly tendencies, she would bet all her money that her mother had requested the front desk ring her when her unruly daughter made an appearance.  
“Arya, my darling. Late as usual I see,” she said, smiling into her daughter shoulder.  
Arya rolled her eyes but hugged her back nevertheless.  
“Yes, Mother, I’m sorry. I had a late night and subsequently a late morning.”  
“That’s fine, my love. Come in for lunch. It is so nice to see you,” she twittered, placing her arm around her daughter, ushering her into the other room where the majority of her family was sitting around the big oak table waiting for Arya.  
Arya walked around to her seat, directly next to Sansa and across from Bran, stopping only to lean down and give her father and then her favourite brother, Jon a kiss as she went past them, throwing her bag behind her and flopping down. While these actions received an angry glare from her mother, Arya was more preoccupied with the meal in front of her. Gods she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Her mouth was watering.  
As they all started, Robb and her father filling the room with business chatter, Arya stuffed her mouth full of as much food as she could, only looking up at a small cough from next to her.  
Her eyes slide unhappily from her fantastic looking plate to her waiting sister, whose eyebrow were delicately raised.  
“What,” Arya said defensibly, her mouth full, to which Sansa wrinkled her nose.  
Sansa shook her head as if trying to clear the image of her sister’s mouth full from her mind.  
“So sister, have a good time last night,” she inquired gently, raking her eyes her eyes down the outfit she had picked out the previous night.  
Arya rolled her eyes.  
“Yes, sweet sister I suppose I did. While the beginning of the night was, at times, quite tedious, toward the end of the night, it really picked up,” she said slyly, a hint of a cheeky smile warming her face.  
“Yes I’ll bet.”  
Arya laughed at that, turning back to her food in elation.  
“So which guy was it?” she said, “Assuming it was a guy?”  
Arya laughed, “Yes it was a boy, actually more a man. He was hot, Sansa. Like winter’s not coming, hot. Especially in bed.”  
Sansa’s eyebrows seemed to climb even higher up her brow until it snapped back like an elastic band as she snorted.  
“Did you seriously just make a pun out of our family words, you, to whom, they have always been held so seriously,” she joked.  
Arya rolled her eyes and promptly went back to eating which only made her sister want to push her more.  
“So…” she prompted hoping Arya would take the initiative of talking more about it, but she just looked up at Sansa questioningly, “Are you going to see him again soon?” she said in an exasperated tone.  
Arya shrugged, she hadn’t really thought that far ahead.  
“Perhaps, I’ll see if I want to. I mean, it will happen if its meant to,” she said complacently.  
An obviously frustrated Sansa wanted to probe more but just as she opened her mouth, Jon interrupted her.  
He stood up and smiled at everyone, though Arya could tell it was a nervous smile.  
“Well I have an announcement,” he said, “As you all know I have been home for nearly a year now, sure living on base, but home nevertheless. Anyway, I am being shipped out for three months on Thursday,” he said, glancing around the room to see his family members reactions, “So well, that’s it, please continue.”  
Everyone had frozen.  
Of course, Arya thought, leave it to Jon to make such an important announcement in such a completely causal way.  
The whole family was gaping, until a shriek brought the surprised silence to a halt.  
It took Arya a second to realize it was her throat which the shriek of “In the name of the Gods, why?” had been torn from.  
Jon looked at her, his face mirroring the pain that he knew their particular separation would bring. Last time he had left, Arya had been 16 and in desperate need of her brother. Especially when the whole Ramsey accident had occurred. She didn’t want Jon to go at all.  
“I need to go, Arya. It is a black ops, top-secret assignment. I must go,” he breathed out, going from his seat to hers, placing his arms gently around her.  
Arya never cried but she could feel a few tear welling up in her eyes as she returned the hug.  
“Please don’t go, Jon. I need you here,” she whispered into his shoulder.  
Jon pulled back and attempted a smile that came out more as a grimace.  
“Come on little sister, it is only three months. I will be fine,” he said, “I will be back before you want me here.”  
Arya frowned.  
“I would never not want you here,” she huffed, sitting down again as Jon returned to his seat.  
“But is it dangerous Jon,” Sansa blurted out after being quiet for too long.  
Jon contemplated.  
“Every mission is dangerous, Sansa but I will be fine. All the boys are going. Sam, Grenn, Pyp and this new man who I don’t know as well but has a lot of training with such missions, Waters or something I think is his name. So I will be absolutely fine. Completely fine,” Jon explained with a tight smile.  
“See children, Jon said he will be fine,” her mother said tightly, “Now who wants some of the roast.”  
Arya threw her mother an angry look. Catelyn Tully still needed to learn that even if she did not favour Ned Stark’s bastard son, the rest of the family did above all. Already Arya could see the worry etched into her father’s face at his son going back into such terrible danger. Sansa had begun to wring her hands like a dishtowel in fear and Robb was biting his lip. Bran was the only one not overtly displaying a sign of worry while Rickon just looked around in utter confusion, not truly having understood a lot of what was taking place in the adult conversation.  
Jon would be both missed and worried about with a constancy that rivaled the constancy with which her mother resented Jon.  
As the meal progressed no one said much of any real substance. Robb talked of business while Sansa answered all questions about her recent change of major at university.  
But Arya was off in her own little world. A world where her favourite brother wasn’t in the army so that he could have a reason to stay away from her mother. Somewhere with the hot bartender and a big bed. She giggled receiving an odd glance from Bran. Maybe she would see him again soon, you never knew.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally updated!! trying to make my chapters longer (this was 15 pages on word!) hope you enjoy xxx

3 Months Later….

The Gods must be cursing me, this lecture is so boring, Arya contemplated as she used a paper clip she had found on her desk to get some of the dirt out from underneath her nails out where it had taken root, seriously so boring.   
Ever since starting university last month, every economics lecture had been a duplicate of her feelings toward this one. A desire for a swift, clean death rather than continuing to submit herself to endure this torture.   
Macro economies, statistics and numbers all clicked with Arya but they were defiantly not where her passions lay. Arya needed to be invigorated by the thing she would spend at least the next three years doing and then maybe longer. Physically and emotionally stirred to be truly inspired.   
Something physical, Arya thought dreamily popping the tip of her finger in her mouth and biting down to keep herself semi focused on this stupid lecture, something adventurous like the army is for Jon.   
On thoughts of Jon going through her mind, worry once more thoroughly enveloped Arya. Her father had just last week received official notification that Jon’s mission had been extended out of necessity to complete the objective his squad was given. He wasn’t coming home for a while yet. Arya had vomited on hearing the news, rushing to the bathroom to expel her breakfast as her anxiety for Jon had peaked spectacularly. It was a strange reaction that had had Sansa worried for a couple of days but in the end it had all been fine when Ned had received confirmation of an approximate return date for Jon which was fast approaching.   
Her professor, who had been fastidiously droning on for the last hour, suddenly bellowed a quote in elation breaking Arya’s musings. Her eyes flicked to the clock at the front to the theatre as they had been consistently since the lecture had begun, noting in happiness that there was about 2 and half minutes until this hell would end and she could go home for the day. Thank the Gods.   
She picked up the paper clip again and started tapping it quietly against her computer, staring at the little icons that decorated her page. Out of boredom she clicked into the one that held an album full of photos of family and friends. The first photo to come up was one of Jon and her. It was back at Winterfell, one of the last times she had been home for an extended period of time in recent years. The snows had been high, almost touching her the middle of thighs, as it had been the dead of the winter. The snowfalls had turned Winterfell into a Winter Wonderland for the entire family as they had taken to the grounds for a snowball fight. Their dogs had been playing in a similar manner in the background. When Sansa, or maybe it had been Robb, had snapped this picture, they were still throwing snow at each other, her cheeks glowing pink, full of laughter and happiness while Jon’s face was pulled into a rare, faint smile. Both of their hands were full of slush that she remembered had kept her hands frozen for hours after. Arya smiled but quickly flicked to the next picture. Seeing that right now was a painful reminder of what she had to lose. Despite Jon’s safety, Arya supposed a sister would never stop worrying about her favourite big brother.   
The next photo was more recent, a picture of her and Sansa taken only a couple of months ago on her birthday just before they had gone out to that club. The Arya of the photo wore a grimace rather than a smile on her face in non-existent excitement to go out. However in retrospect, it had been a great night. Well the bartender had made it a great, no, a fantastic night. Gendry. Gendry and his talented hands, tongue and…   
The desk next to her snapping up made Arya jump as she realised that the lecture had finished and the other students were gradually all getting up to leave the lecture theatre.   
I really need to work on my focusing skills, she thought as she slowly packed her things away, and not getting distracted by anything or anyone.   
She stood up quickly from her seat and began to walk. However thanks to her low blood pressure, a spell of dizziness hit her like a ton of bricks almost sending her backwards on to the floor. She reached out behind her looking for something to lean on, only to find air. But right as she began to fear that she might fall over, she felt arms around her, steadying her.   
As she peeled her eyes open she found herself staring into familiar blue eyes. But when she thought about it, they weren’t exactly blue. If you looked at the beautiful orbs carefully they almost shone with a purple sheen. Ned.   
“What do you want Ned?” Arya inquired as she struggled out of his arms and carefully stood herself back up, “Aren’t you meant to be in Braavos or Asshai or somewhere exotic like that?”   
Ned smiled.   
“Hello Arya,” he said, leaning forward to give her a kiss on the cheek, smiling sweetly at her as he did it.  
“No I have come for a quarterly visit. We had a long weekend because of a Braavossi public holiday so I thought I’d make the short trip back home,” he explained, “And a short trip back to see you.”   
Arya frowned. She had not been expecting this in the least. So she started down the stairs toward the door, knowing that Ned would follow her. And he did.   
Predictable Edric Dayne, she thought in amusement, never gets a damn hint.   
“So I guess I’m here to ask,” Ned said as he quickly followed her down the stairs, “Could we maybe meet up for dinner or coffee before I leave to go back to uni.”   
“Why would I do that,” Arya asked irritably, “we broke up remember, I believe you were there. Maybe even the one doing the talking and subsequently the breaking up.”   
A pained expression made its way onto Ned’s face.   
“I know,” he stuttered out, taking her hand, “but I’m sorry and I believe that I made an error of judgment regarding our relationship. And I would at least like us to catch up. As friends at the very least.”   
Arya considered this. She could not deny that despite their romantic relationship which had stemmed over the last two years or so, it wasn’t that particular Ned that she missed. It was her friend Ned who was always trying to beat her at video games and would practise fencing with her when Jon was away or just too busy to help his little sister.   
“Fine,” she ground out, “coffee between friends and that’s all. Text me when.”   
With that she strutted out the door away from Ned, who thankfully had stopped following her.  
She was done for the day so she began walking to where she had parked her car. But just before she reached her car, a hand reached out and seized her from behind. She spun around in a panic, with a fist out ready to protect herself. But she was met with only the scared blue eyes of Sansa.   
“Oh it’s you, what are you doing here?” she said turning around once again to continue on her way.   
Sansa’s long legs kept up with hers, falling into step to stride beside her.   
“I was wondering if I could get a ride with you. I got dropped off and have no way of getting home,” she queried, quickly getting into Arya’s car before she could say no, “I know you avoid my company for too long in situations that we have no choice but to talk however I’m sure you can survive this once, homes not that far.”  
Arya rolled her eyes and got in the car, starting it and quickly pulling out of her park.   
“So,” Sansa said, clicking her tongue, “How was your day?”  
Arya looked pointedly at her, her face laden with distain at the domesticity the question incited.  
“Well my day was good. We were studying the writings of Aegon the Conqueror. Did you know he kept a diary of his inner most thoughts. I really found it fascinating as….” Arya began to zone out as Sansa continued to drone on about her studies and some professor who was so ‘enlightening’.   
But she was quickly snapped back to consciousness by Sansa’s tugging of her sleeve.   
“Arya I know you haven’t been listening to a word I am saying,” Sansa said, her face morphing into an exact replica of their Mother’s glare, “but I just wanted to ask you if you are feeling any better?”  
“Of course I’m feeling fine, why would you ask that?” she said, stealing a look at Sansa.   
“You know what I’m talking about,” Sansa tutted, “I heard you vomiting in the bathroom yesterday and the day before, Arya. And if I hadn’t had an earlier class than you today then I probably would have heard you today.”   
Arya didn’t say anything.  
“Come on Arya. Are you ok? Are you sick?”  
Still Arya said nothing.   
“Is this about Jon, are you worried about him?” Sansa inquired in a gentler, more maternal tone.   
Arya’s indifferent demeanour melted slightly and she nodded miserably.   
“I am, Sansa, I am,” she whispered, a tear ghosting down the side of her face leaving a trail of wet behind, “I think, after the extension of the trip, the thought of every losing Jon is making me so anxious that I am being sick. I have been vomiting in fear for him.”   
Sansa sighed and placed a hand on her sister’s back, rubbing comfort into her.   
“We are all worried about him Arya,” Sansa said quietly, “Even Mother asked me the other day if I thought he was ok. And he’s fine.”   
“I know, Sans,” she acknowledged, “But remember last time he went. When they called us and said he was missing in action, well I have never been so scared in my entire life. Or felt such relief when they found him and his unit.”   
“I know,” Sansa said drying, “I was there and had to deal with your worry. But honestly, Arya, that helped us as well. I mean look how much better Jon and I’s relationship became after all of that. And Jon was absolutely fine in the end. Don’t worry.”   
Arya nodded as she pulled into their house, parking in her spot.   
The girls got out of the car and walked into the house together.   
“We are home,” Sansa called out as they shut the door.   
“I don’t think anyone will be home for a while. They are all busy, give them a few hours,” Arya asserted, making her way up the stairs to where her bedroom was located.   
As soon as she stepped into her bedroom, she started throwing off her clothes pausing only to turn on her radio, rocking back and forth slightly as a song floated through the air, filling the room with its sweet melody.   
A wave of hunger struck her so she went downstairs to raid the kitchen. An apple or a sausage would sate her. Or sausage in yoghurt.   
Arya paused as she grabbed the apple. Sausage in yoghurt, where the hell did that come from. That was disgusting.   
Biting into the skin of the apple, she made her way back upstairs, lying on her bed, munching and listening as ‘Work Song’ came on the radio.   
She hadn’t been lying there long when her eyes drifted shut and she fell into a sort of sleep like state.   
She was dreaming she was sure of it. Her back was pressed against someone’s warm chest and she could feel hands gliding up and down her body with one coming to rest at the top of her inner right thigh. Kisses where being pressed along her neck and she was moaning way too loud for this not to be a dream. She turned her head so that the warm lips met hers as the hand moved from the top of her thigh to the crux between her legs. At that feeling, her eyes opened to be met with bright blue ones glazed over with hazy pleasure directly staring at her.   
Arya’s eyes flew open as she wrenched herself upright in the bed.   
Well that was a very pleasant dream, she thought immediately.   
However these thoughts were instantly cut off when she felt liquid travelling up her throat. She quickly covered her mouth and flinging herself off of her bed and into the bathroom, straight across to the toilet.   
Sansa, who had been removing her unnecessary make-up in their shared bathroom, was instantly behind her holding her hair and rubbing her back as she purged up all that she had eaten that day.   
But as soon as the sickness arrived, it ceased and Arya pulled herself weakly back up and sat on the floor. Sansa walked over to the sink and wet a small towel, only to bring it back and wipe her sisters forehead.   
Arya sat quietly, letting her sister complete her action.   
“Arya, I need you to be honest with me,” Sansa put forward.   
Arya turned to her inquiringly.   
“Arya, why are you being this sick because I have a theory and I am really hoping that I am very wrong.”  
“What are you on about Sansa,” Arya complained, “ I already told you, its anxiety about Jon.”   
“Arya, do you remember that time, when we were in high school, when you once thought it would be funny to poke holes in all my pads?” Sansa murmured, “Well since then, I have always had my own packets stuffed down in the bottom drawer where you won’t get them,” Sansa intoned.   
Arya raised her eyebrows quizzically.   
Where is she going with this, she wondered.   
“Yes well, anyway. Today I ran out of pads. The same as I ran out two months ago, so I went into your stash to borrow one, again the same as two months ago. But Arya, since I used one two months ago, nothing has changed. There were two left then and there are two left now.”   
Arya swallowed, her mind racing.   
Sansa continued, watching her sister carefully, “Arya is there any chance that you’re pregnant? Because it would explain the vomiting, the missed periods and the constant tiredness, and grumpiness, that even Rickon has noticed.”   
Arya felt herself stop breathing.   
Of course it was entirely possible. Completely possible. She had had drunken sex only three months ago and sex with Ned before that.   
Oh my God, she thought in dread, I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant. No I can’t be pregnant. I don’t want to be pregnant.  
She looked at Sansa once again who was looking at her in concern.   
“A test,” she croaked out finally, “I need to take a test.”   
Sansa’s eyes widened at once like she couldn’t believe she may be right.   
“So its possible,” she stammered.  
Arya just nodded her head in misery.   
With that Sansa snapped out of her shock and she pulled Arya up and out the door. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Positive, Arya sighed in frustration as she looked at yet another test, another damn positive.  
She sighed only to have Sansa snatch yet it out of her hands to see the result for herself.  
Arya felt her temper rising.  
“Its positive Sansa, just like the last five have been,” she snarled in annoyance.   
“You can never be too careful, Arya,” she said reasonably then spite kicked, “But apparently that’s something you’re still learning.”   
With that Arya burst into tears. She was overwhelmed already and her sister’s reproach was not something she needed right now. She would receive that in spades from her parents, it was completely unnecessary, though not unexpected, from Sansa.   
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Sansa had frozen at the sight of her sister’s tears. It was a rare sight for Arya to cry, really it was rare for Arya to do anything other than snap and growl when she was in a state of trepidation. The tears streaming down her face completely disarmed her. She felt a terrible guilt overcome her as the tears continued to flow down Arya’s face.   
So she swallowed her jealousy at her sister’s pregnancy and gently put her arms around her and pulled her closer to her.  
“Hush,” she whispered to Arya, “Its all going to be alright.”   
Then Arya did something that she had never before done, she rested her head on her sister and let herself be comforted.   
Sansa stroked her hair, allowing the thoughts of this baby to venture back into her consciousness. Again, Sansa had to swallow back her envy.   
Sansa had known for about a year that she would never be able to have children, Ever since Joffery had sent her to the emergency room just have a falling out about how promiscuous she had dressed to go to a New Years Eve party. The extensive, long term beatings and abuse that she had been subjected to at the hands of the little blonde prat had caused so much destruction that her fallopian tubes were too damaged to really have much luck ever producing the eggs that would allow for a normal pregnancy. Sansa had wanted children for as long as she could remember, they had always been apart of the plan. Being suddenly told you had a one in a million chance of ever having a child of your own was one of the hardest things that had ever happened to her. It was like a small part of her heart, where all the love and passion she would one day put into her child was stored, was suddenly cut off from its blood supply. Now, her sister, who was eighteen to her twenty-one, who did not in the least want a baby, a child, who didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, was the one who got pregnant as easily as she breathed.   
My jealousy is not unreasonable, she thought, but it is unnecessary and I will stay and support my sister until she is ready to face this.   
So they stayed that way for twenty minutes. Arya sobbing and Sansa comforting.   
“Arya,” Sansa said eventually, needing to ask the question that had been on her mind for too long, “Who is the father?”   
Arya’s crying slowly ceased until she was breathing through the tears.   
Slowly she raised her head from Sansa’s shoulder, swallowing the lump that had inevitably formed at the raising of that issue.   
“Arya?” Sansa probed, “Is it Ned? Is he the father?”   
“Ned” Arya frowned through her tears, “unless I am about 5 months along, it can’t be Ned’s. It has to be….”   
“It has to be…” Sansa repeated, prompting an answer.   
A wistful look shone in Arya’s eyes as she thought about it.   
“Gendry’s” she said quietly, “It has to be Gendry’s.”   
A frown quickly appeared, lines in between Sansa’s usually perfect wrinkless brow, marring her features as she tried to recollect any information she had concerning that name.   
“The bartender,” Arya elaborated, “The bartender that I hooked up with when we went clubbing on my birthday a few months ago with Margeary.”   
Sansa stilled in remembrance. A bartender, that was so typical of Arya. Someone completely unsuitable for her highborn but non-traditional little sister would be the one to father her child.   
“Well,” Sansa said in consideration, clearly wanting to skip over hearing that answer, “You have options, Arya. You don’t have to stay pregnant. Or you can have the baby and then give it up for adoption or keep it altogether. You can do what you want to.”   
Sansa paused, glancing at her younger sister to ensure she was truly listening. But it was Arya’s expression that broke her heart; retracting most of the resentment and anger she might have had toward her sister for being able to become a mother with such ease. She softened on seeing the look of utter despair and confusion in her. Arya had no idea what to do, that much was completely clear.   
I have to be her sister, Sansa thought, family, duty, honour; I must be there for my little sister. I must be her big sister.   
So Sansa took her hand in her own.   
“Arya look at me,” Sansa said quietly waiting patiently until Arya looked her straight in the eye, “I want you to understand that you don’t have to make this decision alone. You don’t have to be alone. If you want an abortion then we will go to the clinic together and I will hold your hand the whole time. Or if you decide that you want to give it up, I will help you find a family, a good family, to give it to. If you decide to raise it yourself, then we will take shifts at night nursing and picking it up from pre-school and if you can’t decide, I will stay and sit next to you until you can. Its as simple as that, baby sister,” Sansa stated, gently clasping Arya’s hand tighter and stroking it, “We are in this together.”   
Sansa jolted back as Arya threw her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug that she returned with equal vigour.   
“Thank-you,” she whispered in her ear, “I love you Sans. I hope you know that.”   
“Likewise, Arya,” she whispered back, “likewise.”   
They sat there for a little longer until Sansa gently pulled her sister up and sat her on top of the toilet, quickly going around cleaning up the pregnancy tests and their boxes before their parents came home which would most likely be soon. She put them all in a bag to go out into the garbage except for one. A naive hope perhaps, but Sansa had decided to hide one test, the first one Arya had used, at the back of their bathroom cupboard in case Arya decided to keep the child. Then she would have a memento of this day, a small bit of it she could keep forever or put in a baby book.   
Soon Sansa was back to work, back and forth, picking everything up, including the tissues that Arya had used to cry all over. She had just finished and was standing up to check that everything was away and untraceable for their Mother’s keen eye when a decision was made.   
“Abortion,” Arya’s steady voice spoke out from behind her, “I think I want to get an abortion.”  
Sansa spun around hastily but Arya had already got up and left the bathroom, crossing the door’s threshold back into her room.   
Sansa quickly chased after her; ready to question the quick decision when a door slammed from below them and their Mother’s voice sounded from downstairs.   
“Girls, I’m home,” she called, “Please come and help me with the shopping.”   
Sansa sighed, looking to Arya, who merely avoided her gaze and started to go downstairs. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arya did not feel the need to reveal her new secret to her mother at all. Arya predicted that her reaction would be too much crying, screaming and reprimanding for her to deal with right now. But on seeing her father, she could almost feel the word vomit coming up her throat as her closeness to him ensured her constant desire to share her newly found problem with him. To relieve some of the burden and place it into her Father’s capable hands.   
Again she wished for Jon. Had he been here, at least she would have been able to tell a version of Eddard Stark, though a younger and less wise one, her little difficulty. But only Sansa knew and she had been surprisingly supportive despite all of her conservative ways and initial disapproval. She had pledged her support to Arya, which had meant the world to her.   
As she pondered this, she felt a hand placed on her shoulder and looked up to see her father standing there looking down at her with a face full of love and concern.   
“Are you well, little wolf,” her father inquired, “You look a bit upset, Arya?”   
Arya bit her lip, looking back up at her father. She could tell him, he would be upset and angry initially for a while but then he would probably pull her into a hug that would help wash all her fear completely away. But her eyes slid to Sansa who was behind him, washing something. She gently shook her head and Arya knew she couldn’t tell her father, at least not yet.   
“It’s nothing, Dad,” she said, managing a half-hearted smile, “Just not feeling well and of course, I’m really missing Jon, you understand.”  
Her father rubbed her shoulder in understanding. That was one of the reasons Arya loved him so much. He was a man of little words but prominent actions that made words so completely meaningless.   
“We all do, little cub, we all do,” he said gently, bending to press a kiss to her brow before slowly walking to his study.   
Arya slowly walked back upstairs to her room.   
She lay on her bed, thinking about what she should do.   
Abortion was an option that she thought she could live with but still it was a big decision. Adoption, maybe. Keeping it, no way. Arya knew she could barely look after herself, let alone a child. Not keeping it. She needed help making this decision, and as fantastic as her sister was being, Sansa wasn’t and had never been in this situation. She needed to talk to someone who had as much to lose as she did.   
That’s it, she thought in elation, Gendry. I have to talk to Gendry.   
She got up quickly and stormed into Sansa’s room before she changed her mind. Going over to her closet she pulled on a leather skirt and top, hoping it the more punk-rock, mature clothes would make her look tougher than she felt.   
She was compelled to sneak down to her car. If Sansa caught her she would never let her go alone, or maybe even at all. No, this was something Arya had to do on her own.  
The bouncer let her pass quickly, running his eyes up and down her figure appreciatively, leering and winking suggestively.   
He wasn’t bad looking and was young, she supposed, but she had already made that mistake and she wasn’t doing it again.   
The club wasn’t as packed as it had been last time she was making her way through it. There were people moving back and forth to the beat, people doing shots and people making out. But no Gendry as far as the eye could see.   
She made her way directly to the bar where he’d been working when they had met.   
Pressing her elbows against the bar, Arya hoisted herself up, scanning up and down the bar for a tuff of black hair somewhere. And it was black hair she found. But the person was shorter than Gendry. Less built and much more feminine. This was confirmed when the person turned around to confirm that it was a she. A she who was regarded Arya in apparent confusion with a slight hint of distrust in her manner.   
Arya realised that she was staring directly at her and quickly snapped out of it as the girl came forward.   
“Can I get you a drink?” she said, taking a cloth and beginning to wipe down the bench between them.   
Arya opened her mouth to accept, only to think of the reason she was here.   
She smiled.   
“No thanks,” she near shouted over the music, “I was just looking for someone if you could maybe tell me where Gendry is? He bartends here too.”   
The girl instantly looked put out by her statement. But then a look of annoyance mixed with pity crossed her face and she crooked her fingers and moved down the bar. Arya hoped that this was a sign, that she was going to take her to Gendry so she willingly followed. She walked with the black haired girl down the bar and then slightly further until they reached a storeroom.   
She stopped, wondering if it was really a good and safe idea to go into a room with a random girl, but her desperation to speak to Gendry spurred her on, so she followed.   
Arya entered the room, the door thudding closed behind her, the girl whirled around.   
“Who are you?” she demanded sharply.   
Arya was taken aback by her angry tone. Who was this, a girlfriend, a wife?  
“Um, my name is Arya. I’m a friend of Gendry’s and I really need to talk to him soon,” she answered back, trying to stand her ground, refusing to be intimidated, “Is he around or are you wasting my time?”   
The girl looked livid at Arya’s answer.   
“Well you’re obviously not a close friend because you would know that my brother no longer works here and, at the moment, has been away overseas on a job for over three months,” she said in triumph of having caught Arya in her lie of being a friend, “And if you want anything, maybe you should try talking to his fiancé.”   
Arya’s breath caught in her throat.   
Oh God, fiancé, she thought in despair, he’s not going to care about a kid, a bastard kid, he’s got a life. Oh God.   
Arya’s anguish must have been written all over her face because when she looked up, the angry girl’s demeanour had softened and she almost looked slightly concerned. It was then she realised that she was wobbling faintly.   
“Shit,” she blurted out, her hand falling protectively to her stomach as she walked backwards and leant against a wall.   
“How long has he been engaged?” she questioned, clinging to the naive hope that this was somewhat of a recent development.   
“About a year and a bit,” the girl said with a look of indifference.   
“I guess that I will have to work this out without his help then,” she stuttered faintly, “I’m sorry, I’ll go now.”   
Arya then swung around and ran out of the door and soon after that, out of the club. 

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“So I can come in this afternoon because of a cancellation,” Arya said with the phone up to her ear, “Around three, perfect. Thank-you, I’ll see you then.”   
Sighing, Arya put down the phone, looking at Sansa who was sitting in front of her biting her nails in anxiety.   
“Are you sure, Arya?” Sansa said for what felt like the hundredth time, “its not something you can undo or go backwards from.”   
Arya sighed for what also seemed to be the millionth time.   
“Yes Sansa, this is the road I will take, it seems,” she said glumly, fiddling with the phone cord.  
Though Sansa still looked unsure, Arya’s resolve to have an abortion was strong. After finding out that Gendry was a cheating prick, who she had nicknamed the ‘stupid bull whose balls were taken by another yet still knocked me up’, she knew that she had one practical course of action. Abortion. It wouldn’t be pleasant but it was easier for both her and the child, who wouldn’t be cursed to have a mother who didn’t even want it.   
No, Arya thought, I can’t deny it. I did want it.   
She had fantasised for a time of herself as a mother as ill-timed as it was. With a beautiful baby that was only hers, despite it being half Gendry. It was strange, as Arya had never pictured herself as a mother. She detested the traditional role it presented, the traditional role it demanded. But still it would have been nice in a twisted way.   
She supposed all pregnant women did that, fantasise. But it wasn’t going to happen, eventually maybe, but not today.   
Sansa grasped her hand and looked directly at her.   
She gently uttered, “And if you sure, then I will be there every step of the way.”   
Arya gave her a watery smile.   
“I can’t be a mother, Sans, I can’t,” she returned, despair leaking into her voice.   
Sansa exhaled and got up, walking over to the door.  
She paused before she exited, turning around.   
“Just for the record, I think you would be an excellent mother.”   
She slowly shut the door, leaving Arya to rock back and forth in an agony that only came from cutting your heart into pieces, an agony that came from giving up a bit of your heart.   
The hours seem to creep faster as she waited for the time to leave for the clinic to arrive. By the time Sansa came to get her, she was a nervous ball of energy that she was certain would explode at anytime. The drive there went too quick and soon enough Arya was sitting in the waiting room filling out a patient questionnaire for the doctor. She looked around the room. There was only one other woman there besides her and Sansa, who was diligently tapping away on her phone.   
When her name was called she could barely muster the strength to get up. Sansa, to her absolute displeasure, had been told that she could not be inside the room during the procedure. So she settled for rubbing Arya’s back and whispering that she would be right here when she came out.   
And so Arya squared her shoulders bravely and walked into the room. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She could feel the tears silently streaming down her face as Sansa drove home. Modern London flew past outside her window yet she payed no attention to it at all, preferring to wallow in her misery.   
Sansa had been blabbering non-stop since leaving the clinic, a trait that always revealed her apprehension in a situation. When she received no answer, she decided to use a different approach.   
“You did the right thing Arya,” she announced to Arya, “You would have set yourself on a difficult road if you had decided to have the baby. It wasn’t what you wanted. You never wanted kids or to be a mother. You did the right thing.”   
Arya lost it then, shrieking at Sansa to pull over the car which she did immediately.   
“Sansa,” she said breathlessly, her chest heaving. 

The room was so clinically white that it was both repressive and depressive to be sitting in the room. It smelled, looked and, Arya would bet, even tasted clean. A woman came forward, holding out her hand in greeting.   
“Hello Miss Stark, I’m Doctor Meredith Fell, it’s nice to meet you,” the woman said kindly, “I will be handling your entire procedure today. Please sit down.”  
Arya sat down, trying to make herself comfortable on the hard chair.   
“So I see you are about three months along, is that right” the doctor asked, eying Arya.  
Arya nodded swiftly in reply.   
“And you have someone to drive you home today,” she questioned again, “we cannot prohibit it but we do not prefer our patients to drive themselves home after we are finished.”   
Again Arya nodded, not knowing whether her voice was fully within her grasp.   
The doctor then put aside all of her paper work and asked Arya to get undressed and lay on the table while she just stepped outside.   
Arya lay on the table covered in only the ugly write gown and stared up at the roof of the room. It was same repressive white that littered the place. So she turned her head, starring at the sideboard where there were some pictures placed.   
But it was the one just behind the others that caught her eye and induced a sob into her throat.   
It was Dr Fell, lacking her scrubs and authoritative demeanour but it was defiantly her. She was in the middle of a laugh, her teeth on display as she giggled. And in her arms was a baby who looked to be a couple of months old. He was smiling too. Probably one of his first. A toothless smile but a smile nevertheless. He was so fat and sweet looking. So innocent in this happiness.   
Again Arya bit back a sob. She wouldn’t get to do that yet. Her child wouldn’t get to smile like that. What was she doing?   
By the time the doctor came back into the room, Arya was almost in hysterics, sobbing and sobbing.   
The doctor gently walked up to Arya and guided her back into the chair she had vacated before.   
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she said quietly as Arya calmed down, “I mean if you want to, if you’re sure, then of course it is your choice. But remember it is a choice so do what you want to, Arya. There is absolutely no shame in making either decision. Take a minute to think.”   
So Arya sat and thought. 

“I didn’t do it Sansa, I couldn’t,” she sobbed out eventually, “I get why women do it, it would be so much easier and some have to or even just choose, Sansa, and it would be all that. But I couldn’t do it, I didn’t want to.”  
Sansa starred at her.   
“But you were in there for so long,” she stuttered, “And you haven’t said anything until now….”   
Sansa just continued starting sentences over and over again and then fell completely silent just starring at the still steering wheel for a while.   
Arya too fell silent. Now she would have to tell her parents. Either that or they would notice sooner or later. She would have to tell Jon and Bran and Robb. Oh God, Robb. He and his wife had been trying to have a baby for ages. This would upset Jeyne, she just knew it. And her father. He would be so disappointed. His favourite daughter knocked up at eighteen. By a bartender she had met once. An engaged bartender.   
She peeked at her sister, the one member of her family that actually knew. She still hadn’t reacted.   
“Sansa,” Arya called timidly to no avail when Sansa just continued to stare.   
“Say something or slap me or something. Just do something,” she begged.  
Then Sansa turned to her, her eyes alight with what Arya guessed to be either anger or delight.   
“I’M GOING TO BE AN AUNTY!” she screamed in elation.   
I guess excitement it is, Arya thought dryly.   
Laughter bubbled to the top of Arya’s throat as she nodded her assent in relief. Sansa smiled and clapped her hands almost squealing slightly.   
Quickly she pulled Arya in for a hug before leaning down to talk to Arya’s stomach, muttering something about being a “favourite Aunty Sansa”.   
Sansa stopped.   
“How are you going to tell everyone?” she queried nervously.   
Arya and her eyes met in despair before they continued home, trying not to think about it.   
The rest of the ride home was spent with Sansa planning a small wardrobe for the baby and deciding that she would either move out of her room so Arya could have the nursery right next door or move Arya into Robb and Jon’s adjoining rooms.   
Arya just left Sansa to her babbling of which were the best primary schools and pre-schools and other things.  
She was going to be a mother. It was weird to think. She was neither maternal nor loving. But when she did care she loved passionately and completely. It would be like that with the child, she just knew it.   
The only other issue was Gendry. Should she look for him or leave the engaged prick to his own life. Would he care that he was having a kid with a girl he didn’t know anything about beyond how to make her scream in pleasure. She could go back to his sister, the black haired girl, and explain the circumstances, maybe ask for a way to contact him.   
No, she thought, I will not reduce myself to begging for another woman’s man, I will leave it.  
If it’s meant to be, then it will happen she thought as they finally pulled back into Sansa’s parking space.   
As they walked inside, Sansa finally quietened down about all things baby-related. Arya could hear voices coming from outside where her family was probably sitting for an afternoon drink. But it was only when she noticed two duffel bags at the door that she truly put it together. Then she ran with Sansa not far behind her.   
The voices had grown closer and sounded much more familiar by the time she saw the familiar dark curly hair that was so like her own.   
“JON,” she screamed, launching herself directly into his arms and giving him about a hundred kisses on each cheek, her back facing the rest of her family.   
After a minute, she released him to Sansa, checking that all his limbs were intact.   
“How are you? Are you back for good then? Where are you staying?” she questioned excitedly as Sansa greeted her brother with an affectionate hug and kiss.   
“Calm down, little sister,” he said, ruffling her hair and pulling her in for another hug, “I am fine and yes I am back for good. But look at you. Have you done something different? You’re practically glowing.”   
Arya’s eyes widened and flitted to Sansa who let out a snort, biting back a laugh at the irony of Jon’s comment. Arya immediately changed the subject.   
“You never answered me, where are you staying? Are you staying here?” she babbled in excitement.   
A throat sounded from behind them.   
“Actually, that’s where I come in,” a deep voice put forward from behind them.   
Startled by the foreign voice, Arya spun around.   
The moment she lay her eyes on him standing there so casually next to her parents, she stopped breathing. The dark hair, the tanned skin, the blue eyes that had tormented her for weeks after their night together, or more specifically the vision of them going further and further away from her as he kissed down her body, were all the same.   
He was here, giving her an impossibly intense look that was loaded with knowledge.   
He is here, she thought dazed, I look for him and he comes.   
Gendry.   
Her arms instantly went to hold herself around her midsection.   
However Jon went on, completely obvious to the tension in the room.   
“Yes, Waters, one of my fellow officers, here is giving me a place to stay until I can find a place of my own,” he said smiling, “Arya and Sansa, this is Gendry, Gendry Waters. He was the new guy in my unit. Gen, these are the little sisters that I have told you so much about, Arya and Sansa. The one you have heard so much about in particular would be Arya, the naughty one.”   
Gendry started forward, opening his mouth to say something.   
Arya was instantly seized with terror. He was a wild card. She could not know what he was going to say. So she took the alternative and easier route, quickly sticking out her hand.   
“It’s nice to meet you, Gendry,” she said tightly.   
He raised an eyebrow in confusion at her but played along anyway, reintroducing himself, ignoring Arya’s stiffening as he touched her.   
Everyone began to chat after all the introductions were over. Her father questioning Gendry and Jon on their mission despite them not being able to reveal much of anything that had occurred.   
But the tension for Arya was too much. She could feel Gendry’s eyes on her the whole way through the conversation. While Sansa constantly looked between her and Gendry questioningly, as unlike Jon, she had picked up on the tension that they were admitting into the atmosphere. And dear Jon being concerned with her subsequent quietness at being so closely watched by the other two people in the equation.   
Her parents asked Gendry about his family, his friends, his life. And Arya annoyance, he didn’t mention anything about a fiancé.   
When it all got too much, she excused herself with the intention of going to the bathroom. However her legs carried her directly to her bedroom. She immediately slumped onto her bed to contemplate what had just occurred.   
He’s in my house, she considered vaguely, the father of my child, no, the engaged father of my child is sitting downstairs with my parents and siblings right now and we are both chatting to everyone else like we didn’t fuck.   
Upon hearing footsteps travelling towards her room, she tensed up with a palpable worry that it would be Gendry. That she would have to explain things to him. Tell him about the baby. But when only Jon poked his head through her door, she let a smile emerge on to her face.   
“Why are you hiding up here Arya?” he probed on seeing her sitting on her bed.   
“Nothing Jon, just a big day,” she replied, “I needed some quiet.”   
“What happen little sister?” he asked quietly.   
Arya knew she couldn’t keep any secrets from Jon, knew that if anyone would support her, it would be her favourite big brother. So on thinking about this, she let herself give in.   
“Jon,” she started carefully.   
“Yes,”  
She didn’t know if she could confess it. What would he think? Would he be disappointed at the recklessness that had got her into this situation or downright furious? Would he tell their dad? Or would he be sweet, kind Jon?  
“Oh come on just tell me, you know you want to,” he said good-naturedly.  
So she took a deep breath.   
“I’m pregnant, Jon.”  
Jon froze. Evidently this had been the last thing he had expected for Arya to say. Maybe boyfriend drama or school stress, but pregnancy obviously wasn’t high on his list.   
His face was completely unreadable, emotionless.   
So she waited.  
After a few minutes of staring, Jon looked carefully at Arya. He opened his mouth and shut it again in what Arya could only describe as extreme shock. He proceeded to do this several times. If it hadn’t been Arya who was terrified at his reaction she would have cackled at the comedy of it all.   
Then he did something that almost made her cry on the spot. He gathered her up into his arms and hugged her like she was the only person in the world that mattered to him. He rubbed her back and whispered that he would always be there for her, for both of them, to look after them and help with whatever they ever needed.   
Arya returned his hug and smiled at him when he pulled back.   
“Does Ned know?” he enquired.   
Arya faltered.   
“No,” she said shyly, “its not his.”   
“But he’s your boyfriend.”   
“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected, “we have been broken up for four months and I am only three months along.”   
“Then who, Arya?” Jon said agog.   
Arya considered. Should she tell him that it was his friend sitting downstairs or not? His comrade. The man who had probably saved his life many times while they were on a mission together.   
“No one Jon, he’s not important,” she said, shutting the matter down quickly.  
“Is he not taking responsibility for his actions?” Jon thundered, his face looking utterly murderous.   
“No I haven’t told him or anyone else bar Sansa yet,” she reassured him, “And that is the way I want it to stay, please Jon. Don’t tell anyone.”   
Jon nodded his assent, still looking angered but less vengeful.   
“Well baby sister, I guess you and I are going to have an eventful year,” Jon smirked as they descended the stairs, “No way I’m leaving you to deal with my future nephew or niece alone.”   
Arya laughed, the first completely happy feeling of the day engulfing her. It would be all right with Jon here, she just knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked Ch. 1! I wasn't going to make it Gendry at the end, but I couldn't not resist! Please comment or leave kudos! i check all the time for them, they make my life. Please let me know where you think the story is headed, lets just say I am a dramatic person and this story will have a lot of drama.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just read on and you'll see....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIIII!! Its been a while so sorry about that! But its been for the good of me, I just started law school so my stories have kind of been on the 'not as important but still very important list'. But here is chapter two!!! I have included, because I am legit the biggest literature nerd to grace the planet with her presence, some foreshadowing of surprises and twists to come in the story!! If any of you can work any of them out correctly I will legit do anything you like, dedicate a chapter or tell you a spoiler whatever!! just post it and ill check them out!! Enjoy

Watching Arya devour the hearty portion of roast potatoes and lamb with extra gravy and some other sauce in front of her, it was easy for Sansa to forget that everything had changed in the last few weeks. Arya had always eaten like that, with absolute abandonment. It was the one thing that Sansa had always been so envious of. Arya could eat junk food, carbs and more junk food for every meal and stay in perfect shape whereas Sansa was constantly watching every morsel she put in her mouth and slaving away at the gym four times a week to stay in her current shape.  
But I guess there is now another reason why she’s eating so much, she pondered, she’s eating for two.  
Sansa supposed that Arya’s current mindset was that if she avoided thinking of her pregnancy long enough it would simply go away, vanish like it had never occurred. It was a typical Arya move. Her sister when confronted with a hard situation would normally do one of two things. Either face it directly, guns blazing and swords drawn. Or simply avoid and ignore it until the problem just faded away into oblivion. 

But pregnancy is different, Sansa thought; pregnancy has time limit and lifelong repercussions. The harder part was still coming, the actual raising of the kid.  
Sansa wanted to shake her and shout at her that she needed to harness her usual steel and face it. She wanted to slap her into action. But she hadn’t yet tried that approach.  
So she continued to stare intently at her sister, slightly disgusted by her eating habits.  
“Stop staring at me,” Arya snapped without looking up from her plate.  
“I can’t, its one of those things you can’t look away from like a car crash or a burning building,” Sansa retorted dryly.  
Arya just looked up to send her a glacial glare and kept eating like a dying animal.  
“Your sister is right, Arya,” their mother interjected from next to them, “I used to think that you ate too much, but in comparison to now, you used to eat like a worm. Speaking of, perhaps I should get you checked for worms with you always being around those damn dogs. Why have you been so hungry?”  
Sansa froze and peered at Arya who just kept eating causally. She had always been the better liar.  
“Just hungry,” she mumbled. 

Catelyn just let out a sound of acknowledgment and continued to eat.  
“Where is Dad?” Sansa said both out of curiosity and eagerness to change the subject.  
“Still at the office dear,” she replied, sighing in amused exasperation, “You know how he gets when he finds something that needs doing, won’t leave until its well and truly done.” 

Sansa nodded and kept eating.  
“What time do you think he will be home like approximately?” Arya suddenly inquired, pausing from her gratuitous consumption.  
“I’m not sure, darling. Later tonight I would think,” Catelyn replied, “why? Anything I can help you with?”  
Arya just shook her head, declining to answer, and put her head down again, resting it in one hand. But rather than returning to demolishing the meal in front of her, she just started pushing her food around on her plate.  
Catelyn and Sansa’s face showed mirrored visages of concern and frustration as they glanced from Arya to each other. Both had always had trouble getting through to Arya, lacking most similarities with her that they shared with each other. Where they were ladylike, she preferred to be brash, where they liked all manner of things girly and pink, Arya was most defiantly a tomboy. And where they preferred men of high status and old money, Arya liked simpler boys.  
A shrill noise sounded through the air alerting them to the unknown presence in the room that was modern technology. Arya immediately slid her hand into her pocket to retrieve her phone, tapping away to whoever was on the other side.  
Sansa gently leaned over to see who Arya was typing to, but Arya, who never missed a second of what was happening around her, moved with Sansa’s movements so she too was leaning away from her seat, still typing away.  
Catelyn chuckled at this, watching her daughters, who repeated this action a few times, as Sansa attempted to be stealthier which did not trick Arya in the least.  
Suddenly Arya hurled herself off her chair and stood up straight, glaring at her sister.  
“Mother, I am going out,” she stated, “I’ll see you later.”  
“Excuse me, young lady,” Catelyn quickly intervened in irritation at being told rather than asked, “But you will finish your dinner and stay here. It is too late to go out.”  
But Arya was already out the kitchen door and shouting over her shoulder that it was only 7 and she’d be back by nine at the latest.  
“That girl,” Catelyn spluttered in annoyance, “She goes where she pleases, doesn’t she Sansa? I never do see anything of myself in her, only the wildness of the Starks, and not even your father but more his siblings.” 

Sansa laughed at her mother’s exasperation at Arya.  
“You must know Arya by now, Mother,” Sansa said, “Goes and does whatever she pleases. As you have said before, deny her anything and it becomes her heart’s greatest desire.” 

They both chuckled before Sansa continued.  
“But in all seriousness, at the moment, Arya needs some space and some time to herself,” Sansa implored, “Let her be like this for once, Mother, she has things going on at the moment.”

Sansa watched a range of emotions rage across her Mother’s face. While Arya and hers relationship was no longer as bad as it had been in the past, the mere instance of defending Arya to their Mother was almost completely unheard of. And that would mostly be Sansa’s fault. Sansa had always been slightly jealous that her sister had garnered such affection, respect and favour from their father and their brothers. So in hurt and envy, she had latched on to their Mother in order to prevent her younger sister from being favoured by her too. It was a childish action that Sansa was now ashamed of and one that had had lasting consequences on Arya as her and their mother’s relationship had never been excellent as she was too blinded by Sansa shining examples at times. But she had no doubt that like herself, her mother loved Arya fiercely. She was her flesh and blood after all. And nothing mattered to Catelyn Stark so much as family.  
“What’s going on with Arya, Sansa?” Catelyn questioned frowning in concern.  
Sansa lowered her gaze so her mother did not see straight through her lies.  
“Nothing specifically, Mum,” she said, trying to seem convincing by lowering her voice slightly so it didn’t squeak in nerves, “Just things with university I think.”  
Catelyn still looked suspicious but let it drop, no doubt planning her next interrogation for Arya herself rather than Sansa, despite Sansa being the weaker link.  
So, Sansa quickly started babbling then about school and work and ballet and God knows what else to keep her mother from continuing her questioning. 

\------------  
As Arya walked quietly through the streets of London, hugging her huge coat and arms around her for further protection from the bitter English cold, she couldn’t help but feel completely normal. There were no responsibilities that were in need of her immediate attention. No one was expecting her to do anything other than to go to university and hopefully not fail her classes. And for a moment, there was no completely unplanned child growing inside her eighteen year old self. Just Arya, walking to meet one of her friends and have a nice steaming cup of black coffee.  
But its no longer that way, a voice from the back of her mind reminded her. She could no longer have that coffee. She was no longer just expected to go to university but also to doctor’s appointments and ultrasounds. And she did have responsibility now. To herself and her child.  
Arya shook her head as if she could clear all the thoughts from it and hurried her pace toward the café just up ahead.  
The bell rang as a welcome to her being in the café. The rush of heat from the fire that was crackling in the corner instantly warmed her down to her toes. She cast an eye around the interior, easily spotting the reason why she had come here.  
Drawing a deep breath in, she steeled herself for the confrontation she had been dreading and walked over to the man seated in a booth in the corner of the shop.  
Pretty blue eyes looked up at her as she reached the table and as she sat down, the eyes broke into a jovial smile as he started to rise, only to lean over and give her a kiss on the cheek.  
“Hi Arya.”  
“Ned.”  
Ned kept smiling, obviously delighted that she was here, having coffee with him.  
“How are you?” he began, “Thank-you so much for coming, I didn’t think that you would.”  
Arya smiled at him. 

“No matter what happen between us, Ned, we are still friends always,” she asserted kindly.  
Ned smiled broadly again at her statement and nodded eagerly.  
“So,” he began once again, “How have you been?”  
“Well,” she said shortly, not in the mood for small talk.  
“That’s great, me too,” he said with less enthusiasm, “So what have yo..”  
“Ned, why did you call me here,” Arya cut him off, “What is it that you want? I know friends can get coffee but I have a feeling that you didn’t just call me here for some buddy time. Why am I here specifically?”

Ned looked a little taken aback by her directness but immediately snapped back into focus. He looked down and fiddled with his hands, a sure sign that what he was about to say was going to make for uncomfortable small talk. 

Arya keep looking carefully at him, waiting for him to say something.  
“Arya,” he started, “We have been apart for about five months if I had to hazard a guess..”  
“Four,” she interrupted blankly, not liking where this conversation was going.  
“Ah yes,” he recovered, “about four months. And during my time in Braavos I have come to regret the actions that I took to ensure our parting. You were my first for everything and the one who I always thought would be my last as well. But anyway, well, I guess what I am saying…”  
Ned was twisting his hands together in anxiety. Arya could feel her stomach drop. She defiantly knew where this was going.  
He wanted to get back together.  
Arya supposed if the timing had been better she might have considered it, might of even said yes. But that would have been in a different lifetime where she hadn’t meet Gendry. 

As much as the situation with the bastard who had gotten her into this predicament had infuriated her, she was grateful that Gendry had opened her eyes to passion and what love could be like. As much as she wanted to deny it, there was a powerful sexual chemistry that had drove her into his bed that night. It was enticing, electrifying. And something that she had never felt before. With no one. Especially not with Ned.  
He had made her realise that though she had never really been into boys and romance, now that she did want someone, she would settle for nothing less than that exhilarating connection with anyone. 

Also now there was another person to think of. Even if she didn’t end up keeping the child permanently, opting for something easier like adoption, having a baby was sure to change her life. She needed to take a break for the realm of romance.  
Her attention was once more captured by Ned as he swooped down and enveloped her hand in two of his.  
“So I guess what I am saying Arya is that I want to get back together,” he said, his hopefulness premating the air around them.  
Arya looked down at their joined hands, and then slowly withdrew hers.  
She looked back up at him, feeling pity spread slowly through her as the hope in his eyes started to die at her action.  
She sighed. 

“Ned,” she started carefully, “As I said before, you will always be my friend, but I just don’t think this is the right time, nor will it really ever be, for us to get back together.”  
Ned’s eyebrows drew up so she continued.  
“Ned, I think that we were more friends than a couple and we should remain that way. I hope you understand and we can get on with it,” she finished off roughly in her usual manner. 

“But Arya,” he said in desperation, gathering both her hands back into his, drawing her closer in, “I love you. You know that. I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen.”  
“Yes,” she responded, “But you never stopped to ask if I felt the same way. We were too comfortable, Ned, too complacent. Gods, even the sex was boring.”  
Ned frowned and Arya felt guilt at saying that. It was a low blow to insult a friend like that. But then he continued and Arya felt her guilt die.  
“But Arya, I want you back,” he whispered, then growing louder and more determined, “And I won’t take no for an answer. We will be together again as it should be.”  
The hormones that had been recently circulating in her body, must have kicked in as she swelled with rage and irritation. Now Arya just wanted to yell and shake the stupid boy. She had stated her position and he still wouldn’t back down.  
That’s it, time for the big artillery to come out, she thought in annoyance.  
“Ned, I’m pregnant,” she near yelled out. 

It was if someone had knocked the wind right out of the boy. He was speechless. His face a picture of absolute and complete shock.  
“What?” he spluttered out finally, his eyes widening almost comically.  
Arya lowered her eye line from gazing at Ned to where her hands where folded over her stomach. It was a hard thing to admit, not only to Ned but also essentially to herself. But she had to accept it. Had to accept that this was her path.  
But clearly that wasn’t Ned’s idea.  
“Arya, why didn’t you tell me?” he said, anger colouring his tone, “Why, Arya why?”  
Arya frowned. Who was Ned to demand to know something that wasn’t any of his business? Then it struck her.  
“Ned, you’re not the father,” she said quickly, “I didn’t mean to give you that impression, but it’s not yours.”  
“How,” he started before pausing, thinking about it. 

Shit, I just keep digging myself into a bigger hole, Arya thought in anguish.  
“You can’t be the father. I am about three months along, and we broke up, as I said, 4 months ago. And as far as I remember we did not have any break up sex,” Arya clarified.  
If Arya had thought he was angry before, now Ned was downright furious.  
His face had turned almost as purple as his eyes and there was a vein that Arya was certain was throbbing dangerously at the jugular of his throat.  
“So you are already screwing some other guy,” he yelled, attracting the attention of the other patrons seated in the café, “Gods, Arya did our relationship of two years mean anything at all to you. Or did you just go and get knocked up the week after we ended things.”  
“We ended things, Ned,” she shouted back, not being able to reign in her temper, “I would like to remind you that it was you, YOU, who ended things between us, so I am completely entitled to move on.”  
Ned paused in his anger, and Arya took this as an acceptance that she was right.  
She pushed back her chair, raising herself up.  
“You know Ned, maybe it was naïve but I told you because I thought I could count on my friend, my best friend really, seeing past his own upset to my bigger, more permanent news,” she sighed, shaking her head, “I guess that wasn’t possible for you.”  
With that she held her head up high and swept out of the café as gracefully as she could. 

\---------------------------------------

Sansa was walking the streets of London after dark, shopping for shoes when her phone started blaring. She tried to answer, starting to shuffle through the bags she was holding, swapping them from one hand to the other. But by the time she was ready to start shuffling through her bag, the ringing had stopped.  
She huffed and turned around facing the store in front of her. It was a children’s store, all colours and toys everywhere with cute little jumpsuits in the front that Sansa instantly wanted to buy for Arya.  
Her ringtone sounded again. 

Quickly she reached into her bag and pulled the thing out.  
“Hello, Sansa Stark speaking,” she said expectantly.  
There was no answer but breathing on the other side of the phone. But just as Sansa was about to hang up, a small, scared sounding voice emerged from the other end of the line.  
“I really am pregnant Sans,” said a fearful Arya.  
“What Arya, of course you are,” Sansa said tiredly, “I don’t understand.”  
Arya sighed on the other side of the phone. 

“I went out for coffee with Ned, Sans” she began quietly, “And when he wanted to get back together and was going on about how he loved me, it struck me. I can’t do that sort of stuff anymore. So I told him I was pregnant and I think I’m finally admitting it to myself a bit too. I think I was in denial.”  
“Really?” Sansa inquired with sarcasm laced through her voice, “I didn’t notice at all.”  
“Shut up, stupid,” Arya teased, sounding like herself for the first time in a long time “But now I feel better, more in control of the whole situation.”  
Sansa had noticed the stress that emanated from Arya all the time recently. It was like she was standing of the edge of a cliff waiting too long to jump over the edge. The further she progressed into the pregnancy, the more nerves started to rack up.  
Sansa sighed in contentment. 

“Arya, you need to tell Mum and Dad,” she said practically, “You’re going to start showing soon enough, especially on your stature, you skinny thing.”  
Arya merely hummed in agreement, a clear sign that she would be avoiding telling their parents.  
“Where are you?” Sansa questioned, “Are you at home?”  
“No,” Arya replied, “I’m walking toward Jeyne’s, you know that coffee place that I love?”  
“Ok,” Sansa said, hurrying along the road to hail a cab, “I’ll be there soon, please wait for me.” 

\----------------------------------------------------

Arya’s nail beds were ragged and almost bleeding by the time she made it to Jeyne’s, the anguish of the whole situation finally getting to her.  
The waitress, who she was pretty sure was Jeyne’s younger sister, strode up to her smiling and led her to her usual table that she had graced many times with Ned, Hot Pie and even Jon. 

When Arya sat down, she pulled out a coffee mug and a pot full of the fantastic liquid. But just as Arya put forward her mug, she quickly pulled it back.  
“Wait,” she said to the confused looking waitress, who was frowning at Arya’s resistance, “Do you have anything decaf?”  
The waitress’s eyebrow climbed even higher up her brow.  
“What,” she spluttered out, “I have been working here for a good four years and you have never ordered anything decaf, in fact I remember once you sending me away when I offered tea.” 

Arya let out an embarrassed laugh.  
“Well, why don’t you finally tell me all about those teas?” she said.  
The waitress nodded carefully and went through a list of organic teas, out of which green and mint sounded the best.  
“Why are you switching to tea from coffee then?” the girl inquired, smiling gently down at Arya.  
Arya sighed glumly. 

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, “Thought maybe I shouldn’t be drinking caffeine.”  
The waitress blinked in surprise at Arya announcement, before a smile broke out across her face.  
“Congratulations!” she squealed in such excitement that you would think she was the one who was carrying a small human being inside her, “That’s wonderful, how far along are you?” 

Arya thought about it.  
Her night with the dickhead had been about three months ago.  
“About twelve weeks I think,” she offered uncertainly, “I need to go to the doctors to make absolutely certain.”  
“Oh not too far along then!” she gushed excitedly, “Do you want a girl or a boy!”  
Arya again hummed in uncertainty. 

I really need to give this all a whole lot more thought, she reflected to her chargrin, I have only been worrying about myself when there is now someone else involved.  
“I don’t mind,” she said, going for the age-old answer, “As long as they are healthy, I don’t mind.”  
The waitress smiled, bobbing her head in agreement.  
Then she spoke in a less exalted tone. 

“You and your boyfriend must be so, so excited,” she said shyly, clasping her hands, “I have wanted to start having kids for a while now, but my fiancé is always away, so its always a bit too hard if you understand what I mean.”  
Arya nodded in understanding and pity. It had been like that with one of Jon’s really serious girlfriend’s, Ygritte. She had been ready to become a wife, become a mother and settle down in her own wild way. But Jon was a military man and that wasn’t also easy, and sometimes even possible.  
“Anyway I’ll go and get the tea for you,” she said bustling off in the direction of the coffee machine.  
Arya’s eyes flicked down to her clasped hands. The waitress’ enthusiasm for her having a baby, even as young as she was, was heart warming. Her reaction gave Arya some hope that perhaps her parents and siblings would react in the same sort of way. But in her heart, she knew that wouldn’t happen. Her parents would be aghast for that she could be certain. Her mother would start sentences and stop them for a few minutes before tearing Arya down with her rage. And her father would be disappointed. She hated disappointing her father. 

Her siblings, other than Jon and Sansa, were wildcards. Robb would inevitably be disappointed that his younger sister could announce an impending gran-child before him and his wife, Jeyne could despite their desire for a child. And her younger brothers well, she honestly didn’t know if they would even care. Rickon certainly wouldn’t. Apart from maybe the fact that he would finally be older than someone.  
Her musings were soon halted as someone slumped in the chair in front of her. An out of breath, wild haired Sansa was panting as she rested her newly exercised body, looking expectantly at Arya. 

“Well,” she said maintaining her expectant look, “Are we emotionally breaking down or is that portion of the evening finished?”  
It was like something had snapped, the tension that had permeated the atmosphere between the two sisters since Arya had realised she was pregnant. And with that they giggled, until giggling turned into laughter, which then progressed to tears streaming down their cheeks.  
“Why are you panting like Nymeria does after one of our runs?” she wheezed out, still laughing.  
“I don’t know,” she responded, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes, “I seriously only ran from outside the café to this seat. Must just be completely unfit.”  
By the time, the waitress had bought Arya’s tea over with a few crackers, both girls laughter had reduced to a mere giggling.  
The waitress looked uncertainly between the two, probably wondering what had reduced them to such a fit of laughter.  
Nevertheless she flipped her pad over and turned to Sansa, inquiring what she wanted.  
After Sansa ordered her coffee, she swerved back around to Arya.  
“I put some of these crackers that my friend had when her morning sickness was bad,” she said kindly, “I thought if you wanted to try some then you could buy them, I mean if they help…” 

Arya smiled in gratitude as she walked away.  
“So now your telling complete strangers about your situation,” Sansa pondered aloud, cocking an eyebrow.  
“Well as I told you before, I can’t avoid it forever,” Arya said sighing.  
“Especially on your figure,” Sansa said. 

“Why do you keep emphasising the whole figure thing, Sans?” Arya questioned in exasperation.  
Sansa giggled naughtily. 

“Because for the first time in our lives,” she said, “I will have the better body and you will be fat as.”  
Arya narrowed her eyes before rolling them.  
“Ha ha ha,” she quipped out sarcastically, “You must be thrilled.”  
“Very,” was all the respond Arya received. 

They sat for a while, Arya drinking her tea and nibbling on the crackers that had been given to her while Sansa waited for her coffee.  
“Arya,” said Sansa suddenly panicking, “Shouldn’t we go to the doctor or something. We haven’t been and they should check everything is ok with the baby.”  
“Yes, I was thinking about that only a little while ago,” she muttered vaguely, “We should probably book an appointment for sometime in the next couple of weeks.”  
Sansa was immediately tapping away on her phone, to which Arya looked up inquiry.  
“What,” she said defensively, “It will only be the best for my niece or nephew, I’m looking up good OB-GYN’s.”  
Arya just shook her head and continued drinking her sweet tea.  
“Whatever you want, Sans,” she allowed, “Whatever you want.” 

They continued sitting there, Sansa tapping away and Arya sipping at her tea, until Arya felt a hand touch her shoulder.  
She swung around, fully prepared to attack when she realised it was Jon.  
“Jon,” she said standing up to pull him into a quick hug, “What are you doing here?”  
Jon smiled, quickly giving Sansa a kiss on the cheek.  
“Just because I was away doesn’t mean I don’t remember who has the best coffee in town,” he said, “Also I’m meeting Sam here for a coffee before we go to the pub with all the boys.” 

“Your meeting your little boyfriend first are you,” Arya deadpanned.  
Jon chuckled his consent to her statement.  
“He not my type, but sure Arya. Anyway how are you?” he said.  
“I’m fine.” 

Jo turned immediately to Sansa, cocking an eyebrow so that she would confirm her assertion.  
“I think she actually is, Jon,” Sansa confirmed, “She’s actually admitting that she is, you know, with child now. She’s better than I have been saying in my texts.”  
“You guys have been texting about me,” Arya near shouted in indigence.  
“Yes,” Jon said waving it off, “We have been for years. All of you.”  
“Yes,” Sansa seconded, “We call it Jon/Sansa bitch time.”  
“Ha ha ha,” Arya scoffed. 

Jon and Sansa exchanged a look which Arya knew meant that they weren't kidding at all about their little text sessions but the subject was changed anyway.  
“So, how is junior? And are you any closer to getting her to tell the parents?” he said, directing the second question toward Sansa.  
“The baby is fine, I think,” Arya stuttered out.  
“You know I was reading that you should be starting to feel it move soon,” Jon stated, “So tell me when you do.”  
“You researched pregnancy?” Arya said disbelievingly.  
“Of course Arya,” Jon exclaimed, “You should try it. Besides, this baby may not have a father if you choose not to tell him but it sure as hell is going to have lots of fatherly figures.” 

Jon looked down at his feet as he said this instantly pulling at Arya’s heartstrings. He wants to make sure it never grows up feeling like he did, Arya thought mildly completely warmed by the sentiment.  
So she gently placed a hand on his, whispering a quiet thank-you.  
Jon just smiled as they continued to sit there in a companionable silence

\------------------------------------------------

Ned was unpacking his briefcase when Arya finally knocked on the door of his study quietly after loitering outside for quite some time.  
“Ah, my child,” he said, welcoming her into the room, “Is your mother around or asleep. She will most likely kill me for staying as late at the office as I did.”  
“She’s asleep I think,” Arya replied, “I don’t know, we just got home.”  
“Whose ‘we’?” Ned inquired.  
“Sansa and I.” 

“It is good to see how much closer you girls have gotten,” Ned said, smiling solemnly, “I think there was a time when your mother and I thought that one day we would find one of you dead with the other holding a bloody knife over their body.”  
“Yes, I think we both thought that would eventually happen too,” Arya said distractedly fiddling with her nails.  
Ned frowned. 

“Was there something you wanted to talk about, my little wolf?” he questioned.  
Arya struggled for a second; thinking of the consequences of what she was about to do.  
She could tell her father, he would be disappointed but then he would help her.  
No, I should wait until Mother is around then I’ll tell them, she thought desperately searching for a way to avoid having to face her parents.  
Yes, I like that more for the time being, she thought  
“No Father, its fine,” she said, trying to sound light and breezy, “I just wanted to check on you when you got home and there should be some leftover roast in the fridge.”  
Ned nodded gratefully, slowly walking over to Arya and lay a kiss on her forehead.  
“Thank-you, Arya,” he said, “Sleep well.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------

Jon had been angry in the past. Furious. There had been times when he was so enraged that he saw red and usually kicked sometime hard. But those times were few and far between. Generally he was quiet and solemn, taking completely after his father.  
But one thing that didn’t fail to get him angry was Arya’s child not having a father.  
Jon had grown up with only a father and a slightly unwelcoming stepmother. He used to wish at the age of about five that Catelyn and his father would wake up one day and say it was a joke, that she really was his mother and that she loved him. But that day never came. And Jon never found out even the name of the woman who was meant to love him for all eternity. He’d often wondered in anger why she had just left him, or if she really had died like Catelyn once accidently said while she was in a fit of anger at Ned, not knowing that the object of her rage was listening to their argument through the vents with Robb.  
But worse than the anger to his mother was the deep-seated regret, sadness and palpable sense of loss. He would never hear her laugh or have her sing him to sleep. Never even would she be able to hold her grandchildren let alone hold him.  
And he did not want that for his sister’s child. 

So enviably, everyone around him started noticing his annoyance. His father had quietly reminded him that he could talk to him anytime he needed or wanted to. Sansa had shared his annoyance but there seemed to be a duller aspect to it. Jon suspected she knew who the father was and was not telling him so he didn’t go and beat the bastard up. Even Gendry had repeatedly asked him what his problem was.  
But it was all coming to a head the morning after he had seen Arya and Sansa at their favourite coffee shop. Not only was he absolutely pissed off but he was two parts hung over and one part still a little bit drunk.  
Gendry, who had come out but not drunk very much at all, came out of his room, sitting on one of the stools, chugged down some of the fresh coffee than Jon had just made for himself. 

Jon glared at him and put another pot on.  
“That was my coffee,” he said through gritted teeth.  
“Yes and this is my apartment if you want to play that game,” he quipped back in a good humour, “I see you’re still in a bad mood, so are you going to tell me what’s going on or continue to mop and push everyone away.”  
Jon did want to finally be able to tell someone. It wasn’t like it wouldn’t be obvious eventually. The pregnancy and then the subsequent child could never be hidden. Especially after he had grown so close to Gendry during his time away. Him and the girl who lived with him were great people.  
Jon turned back towards Gendry putting his hand on the bridge of his nose, a sign of long pertaining suffrage.  
He briefly looked up at Gendry. 

“My sister is pregnant,” he said painfully, “And the father is not taking responsibility and you know with us and the whole illegitimate son deal, that this is striking a cord with me. So I am frustrated because I really just want to beat the prick up.”  
He looked up at Gendry who looked utterly surprised.  
Kind of like a deer caught in headlights, Jon thought for second perplexed by his friends reaction, that’s very odd.  
“Wait,” Gendry croaked out, “Which sister? ”  
Jon frowned, and turned around as the coffee pot made a noise to call his presence.  
“The younger one, Arya.”  
“Arya’s pregnant?” came a strangled voice from behind him.  
“Yes. Some loser knocked my sister up and now won’t bloody take any responsibility and I really just want to….” Jon fumed, turning back to where Gendry was seated.  
But when Jon turned around, Gendry was no longer there. The only thing left was the front door soundly swinging shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIIII!! Its been a while so sorry about that! But its been for the good of me, I just started law school so my stories have kind of been on the 'not as important but still very important list'. But here is chapter two!!! I have included, because I am legit the biggest literature nerd to grace the planet with her presence, some foreshadowing of surprises and twists to come in the story!! If any of you can work any of them out correctly I will legit do anything you like, dedicate a chapter or tell you a spoiler whatever!! just post it and ill check them out!! Enjoy


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here is chapter three! please tell me what you think about it!!! I feel like heaps happen yet nothing did either!!! So let me know if you like! Also (a bit of shameless self-adverstising) check out my other story if you like!! Its called Fated! Hope you all like it!

Chapter Three

Gendry’s head was spinning around and around. He almost felt physically dizzy his world was spinning so much with two life altering words that he had just heard Jon utter. 

Arya’s pregnant. 

Shit, he thought, shit, shit, shit, I got a girl pregnant. I got a girl bloody pregnant.  
Now Gendry, a voice seemed to reason in his head, who said it is your child; you must find Arya to make sure that you are worrying over something that is your problem. 

Find Arya, his brain chanted in a slightly insane way.  
But that was the one big issue with knocking up a girl that he had brought home from a bar for a single night of pleasure, he knew next to nothing about her. The only things Gendry really knew about Arya was how to have fantastic sex with her and everything that he had learnt about her through her adoring elder brother. And, of course thanks to Jon again, vaguely where she and her family lived in King’s Landing. But even that was a hazy memory, shrouded from his immediate conciousness.  
So Gendry kept walking in a familiar direction thinking about what had just occurred.  
He may have a child on the way.

He was only 23, nearly 24, nowhere near old enough to have a baby. To have the kid that that baby would grow up into. He would only be 34 when this kid was 10.  
And Arya, she was only 18, nearly six years younger than him. It felt almost criminal. This could not be happening.  
They had been careful, or he had been at least, but he supposed that sometimes careful wasn’t enough.  
Evidently it didn’t help in this situation, he thought in annoyance as he just keep walking until he stopped dead in the middle of the street. 

Despite Gendry’s seemingly vague recollection of where Arya and the rest of the Starks, apart from Jon, lived, it seemed his muscle memory had come into play.

There he stood, looking up at the high-rise building where the six remaining Starks occupied the penthouse.  
Should he go up there? Interrupt what could be private time to demand to speak to a girl who may or may not be carrying with his child. What if she hadn’t told her parents and he ruined it? What would his excuse for even going to see Arya be. He barely knew her and to anybody else but them, he was only meant to have briefly met her once before when Jon had brought him home after they had landed. He quickly turned around and began to walk back the way he had come until he saw exactly who he was looking for. 

There, walking carelessly down the street with a bag hanging from her shoulder, obviously going home for the day, was Arya Stark. She hadn’t seen him yet, so he got his first chance other that their night together three months ago, to really look at her. 

Her skin still held to its winter paleness even in the hot sun of King’s Landing, contrasting starkly with her dark brown almost black curls, which were currently hanging down her back wrapped under her huge light brown coat, their length being great. Her grey eyes, which he remembered were framed with thick dark lashes, were too far for him to see but he knew without a doubt they had been his favourite feature on her and would remain so. Especially after he had spent so long watching them as she had closed her in pleasure when he had been inside of her. She was still short and slim, though that would be changing soon. Leggy like he’d called her all those months ago. But now she wasn’t just some girl for him to eye up, she was Jon’s little sister. His favourite sibling out of all five of them.  
More than that, he thought in distress, she’s the mother of my child. 

Could be the mother of your child, Gendry’s consciousness reminded him once again, you may not be the father of her child.  
Just then Arya looked up and their eyes met across the crowds of people between them. He could see the panic that welled up in her eyes instantly all the way from his position. But he had to admire her, she kept walking steadily toward him until they were only half a metre from each other, the closest that they had been in months.

“Jon’s not here,” was the first thing she said, “If you’re looking for him, I would try either the base or Sam’s or maybe even this coffee shop called Jeyne’s that’s not too far from…” 

“I was here looking for you,” he forced out, interrupting her ramblings.  
Arya looked down pointedly, casting her eyes on the concrete below them.  
“Why?” she questioned, still maintaining her eye contact with the floor in front of her.  
“Is it true, Arya?” Gendry whispered, needing to know the truth, “Are you pregnant?” 

Her eyes snapped up, and she looked from side to side as if checking if someone had heard him despite how quiet his voice was. But everyone just kept moving on, not hearing and probably not caring what the two distressed looking youngsters were chatting about in the street.  
She looked back to him. 

“Can we not do this here?” she breathed, “Come on, follow me. Hurry up.”  
With that she darted around him, going past the hotel and walking further on. They walked and walked, him following her to wherever it was that she wanted to take him. He had expected her to stop at a coffee shop, somewhere that was an anonymous and ideal place for a quiet confrontation. But when she did stop it was the last place he expected.  
They were at right at Blackwater Bay, on the footpaths that if you stepped off them, you would feel sand beneath your toes. He could smell the saltiness in the air, see the sand strewn below them and feel the sun’s heat from where it was setting from the not so distant horizon. 

Arya just stood with her back to him for a minute, obviously thinking something over deeply.  
Then she turned around sharply staring at him directly, her face a picture of absolute determination.  
“Yes,” she asserted firmly.

“What?” Gendry asked in confusion.  
She scowled at him, completely exacerbated by his stupidity.  
“Yes I’m pregnant, stupid,” she spat out, her impatience peaking.  
Gendry felt like he was swallowing his tongue as he gulped. But he had to know.  
“Is it mine?” he whispered uncertainly. 

Arya bit her bottom lip, her eyes once again finding the floor. Gendry felt like someone had just dropped a massive bolder on each of his shoulders and pressed down on both shoulders. The nod that slowly followed Arya’s action, only served as a confirmation of this new truth, something that gut and instinct had already told him.  
A father. That’s what he was going to be. Some small, innocent child was going to rely on him for everything. Food, money, love… Everything. A child. 

Fuck, Gendry thought, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.  
He spotted a bench in the distance, and quickly headed for it, only briefly stopping to gently pull Arya over with him.  
Both of them sat down, quietly listening to the waves in the distance as they let their thoughts consume them.  
But Gendry had to know, had to ask. Although he knew Arya may lose her temper with him for asking this particular question.  
“Are you sure its mine?” he inquired. 

Arya, who had been pretty much silent, just sitting next to him, drew a breath in at that.  
“What do you mean, am I sure it’s yours,” she demanded, her tone coloured so that it was obvious that there was an anger in her that was brewing just beneath the surface. 

“Only that, well, you jumped pretty quickly into bed with me, when we met. How do I know that you haven’t done that with other guys,” he demanded, one part angry with, three parts scared of her reaction.  
Arya jumped off the bench at that, turning to him with her eyes blazing in rage.  
“How dare you say that,” she screeched in fury, “Let me assure you that hooking up randomly was defiantly a one time thing that I have never and will never be doing again. How dare you…”  
Rage seemed to get the better of her talking as she fumed in silence.  
Gendry also stood up, towering over her.  
“Well I am sorry if it has crossed my mind,” he yelled back, equally angry, “But how can do blame me, it was a question that had to be asked…”  
She cut him off. 

“Well I didn’t see you trying to stop me, so I could recapture my composure and not act like a total slut, which I wasn’t. In fact I remember the exact opposite, you encouraged me to come back to your apartment with you,” she screamed at him, panting from the exertion of bellowing at him.  
“How dare you say that,” she said once again, pushing him slightly, though he didn’t budge from where he was standing.  
Gendry paused.  
“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner,” he asked desperately, “Why didn’t you tell me at all? Finding out from Jon wasn’t exactly the way I would have wanted to know.”  
With that, Arya’s anger seemed to crumble and for the first time, Gendry saw the fear hiding underneath the desperately angry facade.  
She sat down once more, clasping her hands together again and starting babbling in such a distressed tone that Gendry could not understand her. 

A stab of pity made its way through him.  
I am being selfish, Gendry thought completely ashamed of himself, I am 23 and I have known that I was going to be a father for not even an hour. Arya is younger, from what Jon said only 18, and has probably been struggling with this for a good few months. She’s so young and unequipped to deal with any of this. That and she’s probably terrified out of her mind.  
So with that in mind, he gently sat himself down, placed a hand on her back and brought her in closer to him. At first she struggled, hitting his chest none too gently but soon the struggling ceased and Arya allowed herself to be held by him.  
At first she merely kept babbling. But soon the babbling stopped and he felt the vibration of a distraught moan and a hot wetness that could only be tears start to make its way through his shirt onto his skin.  
The crying only intensified the longer he held her there, his arms curled around her so that he could gently stroke her shoulder.  
He let her take her time to cry, to be angry. Time that allowed him to think as well.  
Well I am certainly not going to be the guy who got a girl pregnant and just left her and the kid alone, he thought with a steel stubbornness that would rival a bull’s to chase a man with a red cloak.  
No he would be around to help, regardless of if Arya would have this baby or not. Have his baby or not. It was his responsible, his duty. He would not be like his father if he could help it. 

He had a job, a stable one, which had sent him on two tours and about five special assignments that had payed well considering their innate danger. He often worked other jobs as well. Just to help out and make some extra money on the side. He would work in his sister’s club occasionally too, that’s where he had met Arya.  
Gendry jolted back into the present on thinking about Arya. She had stopped crying, only a small sniffling being detectable to his ears now. 

“Arya,” he said, trying to sound soothing, reminding her gently of his presence.  
She jumped, and drew back from his arms, which now felt cold and bereft of any warmth.  
“Sorry,” she mumbled ashamed of her weakness in front of him, “it’s all the hormones, I never cry usually.”  
“Arya,” he said once again, “Why didn’t you tell me? When I was away with Jon, I understand but now… Arya, we have been back for weeks, and you knew exactly where I was. Hell, I was living with your bloody brother.”  
Arya avoided his eyes. 

“When my sister and I first realised that I was… I did go looking for you, at the club we met at but…” she paused painfully, and then looked at him once again, a spark of anger in the depths of her eyes that looked almost liquid silver in the fading King’s Landing sun, “But I met your sister, and she, well she told me that you were engaged and I didn’t want to ruin anything and I was hurt too, so when I saw you… well out of spite I didn’t tell you. And some fear I guess.”  
Gendry was silent at that.  
Bloody Mya, he thought in utter irritation that was not unfamiliar to him thinking about his elder sister. Of course she would tell Arya that he was engaged. 

Well at least Arya knew of his engagement now, he wouldn’t have to break the ice and be the first to tell her about that.  
But now as she looked at him expectantly he knew he was going to have to explain something.  
“Its very complicated,” he started tentatively, “But please know, I didn’t use you to cheat on Willow…”  
Her eyebrows crinkled in uncertainty. 

“But your sister said that you had been engaged for a year and a bit,” Arya stuttered out in hesitation.  
“Well,” Gendry trailed off, “We were together for a while but we had broken up about two weeks before our night together and then…’  
Arya raised her eyebrows as a gesture for him to go on.  
“We are kind of together at the moment,” he blurted out, “Her sister died in an accident a couple of days after we broke up. So before I left to go with Jon, I went to see her at the hospital when her sister was there dying, as despite it all I still thought of her as a friend. And well I think she just assumed that we had just had another one of our fights and now were getting back together again like we did a few times when we were first going out.”  
He flicked his eyes to look at Arya, whose face was completely impassive, utterly devoid of any and all emotion.  
“So now she’s still living with me and Jon,” he continued quickly, “And it’s still a bit up in the air where we stand.”  
Arya just looked down. 

“But that has nothing to do with this,” Gendry said, desperately wanting her to look back up, to acknowledge him, “This is completely separate from all that.”  
He watched as Arya took a deep breath in, obviously trying to steel herself for what she was about to say.  
“I know this is big deal and a bit of a, well for lack of a better word, bombshell,” she stated softly, “But I want you to know that you don’t have to be involved in this at all if you don’t want to be. I would rather my child have no father than one who doesn’t want to be there for it. I was prepared to do it alone before this, and those plans don’t need to change.”  
“You’re going to keep it?” he said softly, hearing that rather than all the negativity that she said around it.  
Arya looked up at him, locking their gazes.  
She nodded her head. 

“I couldn’t do anything but keep it,” she clarified, looking up at him through her eyelashes, “its half mine as well.”  
Gendry watched her. Of course it was half hers, more hers if anything. It was inside her. But that little sentence prompted so much more than this child being hers.  
The other half is mine, he thought, all mine.  
“Look, lets give you some time to process this all…” Arya started to say.  
“I don’t need time to think,” Gendry interrupted, “I knew from when I first found out, Arya. I will be there, I want to be involved.”  
Arya looked up at him, her face still a mask of indifference. But he swore that for a second he saw something else. A flicker of gratitude that she wouldn’t be alone in any of this anymore. Gently, she put out her hand and clasped it over his, her face clearing of all the concern and fear etched into it as she smiled slightly.  
It was a window had been thrown open and Gendry suddenly felt all the attraction and sexual tension that had gotten them into this situation in the first place. 

She is beautiful, unconventionally so but that’s what makes her more fascinating, he thought in appreciation, at least I know our child will be attractive if it takes after her.  
Shit, he thought as realisation forced its way through him.  
“Arya,” he said in a strangled voice all of the sudden, “We are going to have a baby.”  
Arya looked him and rolled her eyes.  
“Of course we are, stupid,” she growled, “what did you think? That I was going to give birth to a watermelon?”  
It seemed like the awkward tension that had so long been there between them since Gendry had found out suddenly snapped and at that, he laughed. 

He laughed so loud; a man jogging past with headphones in his ears and a dog on a leash gave him a weird look as he ran. Gendry could almost swear that the dog gave him a weird look too.  
Arya soon was giggling too until they were both clutching their stomach’s at the bizarre image.  
Suddenly, Arya gasped, leaning forward and putting a hand to her stomach with a look that made Gendry’s blood freeze cold.  
“What,” he said urgency and fear lacing his voice, “What’s wrong? Do you want me to take you to the hospital? To the doctors at least…”  
“Shut-up stupid,” she said, a smile slowly spreading over her face that allowed his heart to start beating again “I just felt the baby move, I think.” 

The smile that lit up her face would have blinded him if he didn’t look from her face to her stomach.  
Quickly, she reached for his hand and pressed it against the lower part of her abdomen. He let his hand be pressed but felt nothing to his disappointment.  
“Its probably too early for anyone else to feel anything,” Arya consoled him when it was evident that he felt nothing, “I’m only three months along. I mean I haven’t even been to the doctors yet, I’m surprised it even knows how to move.”  
Gendry nodded his consent, still feeling slightly disappointed.  
“Look,” Arya said, her eyes to her watch as she stood up, “I have to go, I am already late for meeting up with my sister, Sansa but I’ll see you around?” 

Gendry looked up as she retrieved her bag from the bench.  
He stood up too.  
“Do you want me to walk you back?” he offered.  
“No its fine,” she replied, “You look like you need some time to think and process. I’ll see you around.”  
With that she hurried off down the path.  
“Wait Arya,” he called out as she turned around once again.  
He walked up to her, and plucked her phone out of her hand, gently brushing her hand as he went.  
Soon he was tapping away.  
“That’s my number,” he explained as he handed the phone back, “If you need anything, day or night, just call me. Seriously Arya, anything.” 

She smiled, nodding her head and slowly walked away leaving only the memory of her smile as he sat down and looked out to the sea, trying to process what his life had become. 

\----------------------------------------

As she walked back toward the hotel where Sansa was most likely eagerly awaiting her, Arya almost felt like skipping the rest of the short route. She was utterly surprised at how free she felt now that Gendry knew about the baby. It was like the burden had been completely taken off of her shoulders. 

No, its like he’s helping me carry all the weight, she reflected silently, letting a smile grace her face once more.  
But he had admitted he was sort of engaged and that had twisted up Arya’s stomach in this strange sort of pain that she gradually recognised as betrayal and hurt. But he was at the very least honest with her and she wholeheartedly appreciated that honesty.  
But he wasn’t with her when you were together, her sub-conscious reminded her, and you aren’t together, you never have been.  
Arya quickened her pace as the hotel came into view, trying to let go of all the thoughts swimming around her mind.  
Sansa was going to be furious at her lateness. The only thing that might appease her was that Arya had used that time to tell Gendry.  
Arya internally groaned as that thought took her right back to the contemplations she was trying to avoid. Her thoughts of Gendry.  
He had been very supportive but not overly supportive, not overbearing. His calmness, though understandably not at first, and his thoughtfulness made her regret not having told him of her pregnancy sooner. Jon was right, he was a really great guy.  
Arya hurried into the hotel as she thought this, waving at Bill before quickly stepping into the elevator and pressing the penthouse button. But before the doors of the elevator could close, someone put his arm in the door, stopping it before stepping into the elevator. But not before he eyed Arya up and down, smiling at her. 

He looked down at the buttons, pressing the button of the floor just below the penthouse.  
He turned around and stared at her, looking her over with interest like a piece of prime meat.  
Arya being Arya glared back with defiance, daring him to keep going.  
Then I will tear him apart like a piece of mean, she thought gleefully, almost feeling like Nymeria did when it was her mealtime.  
But the man had obviously interpreted her glare the wrong way or was simply ignoring the real interpretation of her look.  
So when he flashed her a smile and held out a hand, Arya wanted to slap herself for glaring back at him.  
“Hi,” he said, still holding out his hand waiting for her response, “I’m Aegon, and you would be?”  
“No one,” she replied shortly, glancing up at the screen to see there was only about three floors left until he would leave her in peace.  
But her curt response only acted as an encouragement to his flirtations.  
“Well, no one,” he said smiling flirtatiously as he looked at her, “Are you staying here for long? Maybe we could get a drink and talk about nothing sometime.” 

Arya scoffed and kept ignoring him, opting to pick at her nails while waiting for the ding would sound for this Aegon’s departure. She already longed to pull on his long silverly coloured hair and stamp on his foot as a way to vent her irritation.  
But a lady doesn’t do that; her mind told her in a voice that sounded eerily like Sansa’s.  
But despite her rudeness, he just kept smiling at her with this small smirk on his face that lasted until he exited the elevator’s doors with a small wave as he walked backwards out of them.  
As Arya travelled up the last floor, she forgot all thoughts of Aegon, focusing rather on her nails.  
As soon as the elevator dinged open, she was engulfed in red hair.  
“Why does this always happen to me? What are you Mother now, Sans?” she said sarcastically as she tried to breathe through the hair that surrounded her. 

“Well,” Sansa replied, finally releasing her, “You took forever, I called you so many times and you didn’t respond. So I figured you had died or finally run off to Braavos to become a sell sword like you said you always would.”  
“Not yet I’m afraid,” she said in a resigned voice, “I have other responsibilities that need taking care of first.”  
Sansa nodded eagerly leading Arya up the stairs toward her room.  
“Where were you anyway?” Sansa inquired as they finally reached the doorway of her room.  
“Oh, I was with Gendry,” Arya said plainly.  
Sansa halted dead causing Arya to walk straight into her frozen frame.  
“Sansa move,” Arya whined, gently trying to push her sister forward though she didn’t move an inch, “SANSA STARK MOVE, I’m going to vomit…” 

At that, Sansa jumped forward and out of the doorway, so that her sister could run to the bathroom. But Arya just strolled leisurely past her sister and flopped down on her bed.  
“I thought you had to vomit,” Sansa commented, looking extremely perplexed at what had just occurred, or rather not occurred.  
“Well you wouldn’t move,” Arya murmured back, concentrating on pushing her shoes off with her feet, “I had to get past you, you would have stood there as still as a statue for a good hour. So I thought, very intelligently I might add, that I’d let you get that over with after I sat down. So please, by all means, continue to stare into the distance and think about it all….”  
Arya trailed off, reaching down to undo the button on her jeans, muttering something about it being too tight and her needing to acquire a couple pairs of new jeans.

So they sat there, Sansa contemplating while Arya played with her sister’s phone.  
“WHAT DID HE SAY?” Sansa screamed, suddenly in a completely panic after a good couple of minutes of silence.  
Arya rolled her eyes, she had been expecting this to happen sooner or later, but nevertheless she sat up and looked to her sister.  
“He was really good about it all, Sansa,” she said, “I was genuinely surprised. Of course he was angry at first because he found out through Jon but after that, he said that he wanted to be involved and everything.”  
“Are you going to let him?” Sansa questioned with narrowed eyes. 

“Of course I will,” Arya said in confusion, “Why would I deny my child the chance to have a father? A real father.”  
“Arya, you know nothing about him, like nothing at all,” she whispered truthfully, “Apart from him being Jon’s friend and a soldier, you literally know absolutely nothing about him. Even Jon wouldn’t know that much at this stage, they haven’t known each other for that long.” 

Arya considered what Sansa was saying. It was not a lie or an exaggeration. Sansa was completely right in that respect, she knew nothing about Gendry, yet she would trust him with her child.  
It’s his child too; a voice said resonating through her brain, reminding her.  
‘Then I will have to get to know him,” she announced decisively, “I have like 6 months to get to the point where we know each other well enough to raise a babt together. Anyway, what did you want to tell me?”  
“Nothing I just wanted to tell you that I booked you an appointment with a leading OB-GYN for next week,” Sansa said, “Monday morning at 10. Also, did you want me to come with you?”  
Arya nodded her assent and lay back down on the bed to stare at the roof in contemplation, placing both her hands on her stomach.  
She felt the bed next to her dip and Sansa’s hands cover her own.  
“You know,” Sansa’s voice started shyly, “I think that you’re starting to show a little bit. You just look slightly more rounded in the stomach than usual.” 

Arya turned her head to look directly into her sister’s eyes.  
“Really,” she replied softly, “Well there is defiantly something there, I felt it move today when I was talking to Gendry.”  
Sansa’s eyes popped open in surprise, happiness and another emotion that Arya couldn’t quite determine.  
Actually it looked a little bit like envy, she thought briefly before listening to Sansa go on about something to do with this doctor and his birth rates to which Arya tuned out, not caring about other people’s babies, only her own. 

\--------------------------------

Arya was encased in the absolute warmth of her father’s arms when it finally happened. Sansa had told her it was inevitable but she had still wanted to avoid this revelation for as long as was possible. 

She was snuggled in between her father, whose arm she was cuddling into and using Robb, who had both arms wrapped around his wife, Jeyne who was on his other side, as a headrest. The family, except their mother who was most likely cleaning or something of that ilk, were all squished into the main longue room sofa except for the boys who were lying out on the floor enjoying their weekly ritual of watching a movie together on a Sunday night. 

It was an unavoidable Stark family tradition. As her elder brother had once said jokingly, you were no longer a Stark if you didn’t attend Sunday Lunch followed by family movie night.  
Out of everyone, only her mother didn’t normally stay for the movie, always sitting down at the start then getting up to do things and prepare for the week, making lunches or polishing the silver. Then she would sit down and repeat this action until she just didn’t end up coming back. 

Arya supposed that this ritual had been a lot of fun as a kid. Her excitement would grow over the course of the week as Sunday got closer and closer. Especially when it was her week to choose a movie for them all to watch.  
Today it had been Jon’s turn as he had been away for so long. So they were watching the Terminator, which was one of Jon’s all time favourites. 

The whole family sat engrossed in the movie, watching as the intensity grew when Arya heard a running, or more stomping, coming down the staircase. 

It wasn’t long before her mother burst into the room, her hair flying out crazy in every direction and her face so angered it had turned a deathly white pallet. 

But it wasn’t her face or hair or even her harsh breathing that drew Arya’s attention. It was the pregnancy test that she held in her right hand. 

BLOODY SANSA didn’t throw out all the tests, Arya thought glancing in anger at Sansa who too had grown deathly pale with a look of guilt painted on her face as she glanced over to Arya, Oh Gods, help me now.  
“WHOSE IS THIS?” Catelyn screeched in absolute fury, looking between her two daughters, who suddenly both grew very interested in the wall behind their mother. 

“Catelyn,” Ned said, unwrapping his arms from around Arya and getting up to get a closer look at what his wife was holding, “What’s wrong? I’m sure we can work this out like adults…”  
But Ned stopped dead too when he finally recognised that his wife was holding, not only a pregnancy test, but a positive one.  
“Whose?” Catelyn yelled again, still looking between her two daughters, her head whipping rapidly between them, and away from the confused faces of her sons. 

“Mum…” started Sansa calmly, “Could you just sit down for a minute…”  
But Sansa halted her sentence on seeing her Mother’s absolutely heartbroken face, the tears beginning to well up in her eyes.  
“You,” she whispered, looking at her eldest daughter, the daughter she had always held in such high esteem and regard. The daughter who had never, ever disappointed her in her life, “You’re pregnant, Sansa?”  
Sansa just stared at her Mother. 

“Oh for God sakes,” Arya said fearlessly seeing that Sansa was struck dumb by their mother’s assumption that the test was hers, “its not Sansa’s. If you’re looking for disappointment then look over here. It’s mine, okay. I’m the pregnant one.”  
Her voice trailed off as she said the last sentence. Her whole family was starring at her with a look of absolute shock printed on their faces. 

“You’re pregnant,” Catelyn whispered in horror, “Like right now.”  
Arya looked at her hands, fiddling and ringing them in her distressed state.  
“Yes Mother,” she whispered back, “I’m pregnant right now. Right at this very moment.”  
With that confession the energy seemed to drain from her mother as she near collapsed in the armchair next to where she had been standing. Her face was an absolute picture of shock and horror at her daughter’s confession. One that probably would have cackled at if she weren’t so scared of what her mother was about to do. 

She couldn’t even bare to look at her father’s face, not wanting to see what his expression was.  
She felt a weight settle next to her as hands clutched her own. She looked up and smiled weakly at Sansa who had come to sit next to her and Jon who was now sitting behind her, having pushed Robb off the couch.  
Her parents just remained where they were, their state of shock permating the room for a time until it seemed that her mother just snapped back to life. 

She stood up from the armchair that she had flopped into and began to pace back and forth, obviously deep in thought.  
“How far along are you?” she asked, finally speaking though her tone was so unlike its usually self, being business-like rather having its normal gentle lilt. 

“Um, about 12 weeks,” Arya replied with uncertainty laced through her tone.  
Her mother breathed out sharply. 

“Well I guess you can no longer get an abortion,” she muttered loud enough for Arya to hear, “We could always give it up, arrange for a nice family somewhere to adopt it…” 

With that Arya stood up, fury etched on her face.  
“Excuse me,” she shouted, “But who says I’m giving it up.”  
“Do you really think you are ready to be a mother?” Catelyn shouted back, “You can’t even clean your own bathroom yourself.”  
“Doesn’t mean I have to give up MY child,” Arya roared back in fury, “I have been dealing with this longer than you, Mother, and I am keeping the baby.” 

But Catelyn was no longer listening, still pacing back and forth.  
“Gods Arya,” she cried, “Have you even thought about what this will do to you and Ned’s lives?”  
“No not really,” Arya swiped back sarcastically desiring to shock her mother, “Because its not Ned’s.”  
The whole family, who had just listened to the entire argument, was once again gaping at her apart from Rickon, who was just frowning in confusion at all the shouting, Jon and Sansa. But she ignored them, directing her heated gaze solely onto her mother.  
“GODS ARYA,” Catelyn once again shouted in complete rage and exacerbation, “Who the hell’s child are you carrying then?”  
It was then that Arya lowered her gaze, her eyes finding the floor.  
“This guy,” she said quietly, “You don’t know him.” 

“Of course I don’t know him. Why would I know who my daughter is whoring around with,” Catelyn screamed in vehemence once again, “she never tells me anything. She couldn’t even tell me I was shortly going to be a grandmother. NO, I had to bloody rifle through her bathroom draws to find out.” 

She collapsed back onto the chair and then looked up at her daughter. Suddenly, Catelyn looked so tired, so weary.  
“Arya, leave,” she said plainly as if talking about the weather.  
“What?” Arya gasped, her mouth widening in shock.  
She had known her parents would be angry, furious even, but she never had thought they would throw her out on the street. They were so loving and kind, she never even doubted once in her life that they hadn’t loved her with everything in them. They couldn’t be doing this to her. 

“Not forever,” Catelyn clarified, rage still prevalent within her voice but pity also detectable, “Just go for a couple of days so I don’t strangle you right now.” 

“But where will...” Arya started to argue.  
“Arya,” her father spoke finally breaking his silence, his voice unreadable, “Just leave for a bit, love. Please. Your mother and I need some time to process. Stay with one of your brothers. Just go.” 

Now the whole family was gaping at their parents, even little Rickon, who seemed to have finally caught on to what the whole conversation meant. 

“Come on, Arya,” Jon spoke up gently from behind her, “You can stay with me for a couple of days. Go get some clothes and anything else you need.” 

With that Arya bolted up the stairs, reaching the top just in time to hide the tears flowing steadily down her face. 

\------------------------------------------

Gendry was relaxing in front of the TV, drinking some coffee when he heard the front door open and close announcing what he was guessing was Jon’s arrival home. 

“How was movie night?” he called out, “And how was the family? You’re home a bit early but you can come and join me if you want. I was just going to watch the game between….” 

But he trailed off as he looked up, seeing Jon next to the couch looking at him with a pained expression. But it wasn’t Jon who had silenced him, it was the distraught looking Arya who stood behind him, tears both dried on her cheeks and still leaking from her aggrieved looking eyes, holding a rather large bag with both hands.  
“Gendry, man,” Jon started, looking extremely uncomfortable in the situation, “I know I have asked for a lot of you, but would you mind if my sister stayed here for a couple of days. Our parents kicked her out for the reason I told you this morning, you know, if you remember that thing…” 

Jon kept prattling on but all Gendry saw was the absolute devastation in Arya’s eyes and he knew he would have said yes had Jon not said anything at all. 

“Of course,” Gendry interrupted whatever Jon was saying, “Of course she can stay, she’s your sister man, of course.”  
Jon smiled gratefully, moving around the couch to usher Arya presumably toward his room. 

The last thing Gendry caught was a smile from Arya that was so filled with both gratitude and despondency that it nearly broke his heart right there.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am back (and bad)! Thank-you to the people who kept pushing me for an update, this one is for all of you! Especially the person who kept posing as famous people, aka Barrack Obama, Jackie Kennedy etc... you made my days! Hope you enjoy the chapter, it was 23 pages long (i'm pretty impressed with myself) however I feel like its too fluffy, but i thought the deserved a bit of fluff before I, well, start the more dramatic stages of my story! Please comment, it gives me both satisfaction and appreciation! Also I'm introducing my other ship in this chapter too! So get ready, thanks and enjoy!!!

As Robb walked into the office the next day, stepping into the elevator, he felt his despondency grow. Another day at the office, writing emails and forwarding even more. Sitting at his desk in his office, thinking about so much and yet somehow absolutely nothing. 

That’s what boredom with life is, he thought dryly, what is it that the Frenchies call it, ‘ennui’ or some such name. 

But as the elevator dinged and his office door came into view, or more specifically the blonde girl sitting outside it, and he remembered that there was one reason to come into work today. One reason to come to work everyday for that matter.

“Morning Mr Stark!” came the cheerful voice of the even more cheerful blonde as Robb drew in closer to his office door. 

Gods, why does she look so good everyday, he thought in desperation, she tempts a married man like a siren tempts a sailor, without even knowing it. 

“Morning Myrcella.” 

She got up, following him into his office as she did everyday, quickly going through his meetings for the day and what urgently needed to be done within his breaks from the never-ending stream of meetings.

“Is there anything else you need?” she inquired after she had finished telling him where he needed to be when and why.  
“No that will all for the moment,” Robb said, glancing up at her, smiling, “I hope you had a lovely weekend, or better than mine at any rate.”  
A smile lit up her already bright face. 

“Yes I went down to the Martell’s beach house with Trystane on Friday night and got back into the city yesterday, it was lovely down there,” she said, smiling dreamily but then her smile cleared and she frowned down at him, concern etched on to her face, “What happen to you that was so bad?” 

Robb looked back at her, letting his eyes drift out of focus as he thought back to Sunday night’s movie night from hell.  
He had been shocked to say the least when Arya’s pregnancy had been so abruptly announced by their mother. Shocked at the fact that she was pregnant, annoyed that he hadn’t known beforehand when both Jon and Sansa had and slightly hurt and envious of his little sister’s situation. It was no secret to their family that despite their wish to have a family, it had been harder than expected. Jeyne had had three miscarriages within the last two years. It seemed that her body could not carry a child to term, no matter how much she might want to in her heart. Robb would never forget how happy they had both been when she had realised she was pregnant the first time, despite their young age, both only being about 21. They had rushed everything, got married and bought a house. Even started setting up a nursery. But it had all come crashing down around their ears. As much as Robb could never forget the happiness that they had both felt on finding out about a baby being on the way, that joy was shrouded with a stronger feeling. The utter anguish of seeing Jeyne sit up quickly in bed, screaming as she realised that the sheet that they had been cuddled up in was covered with a fair amount of blood. The next two times had been easier in a way, they had both just become more and more numb to the pain of losing a child. Losing something that you never really had to begin with. Jeyne had honestly looked dead in the eyes the third time it had happen. Not seeming happy, but not sad either.

Robb had seen the expression on her face when Arya’s news was revealed to everyone. Her features had been laced with absolute despair before she had plastered a fake smile over them in supposed joy. Only he could recognise the sadness in her eyes. Everyone else was as obvious to it as they had been to her last two pregnancies. Understandable there was a bigger focus on Arya and this child rather than their own misfortune at that very moment 

Myrcella was waving her hand in front of his face when Robb snapped back into the present. 

“Sorry Myrcella,” he said sheepishly looking up at her once again, “Oh well, I trust you and I guess you will find out soon enough anyway. Arya’s pregnant.” 

Myrcella reacted so sweetly that Robb felt a deep shame at his own feelings of resentment.

She squealed, her beautiful smile once again overtaking her face. 

“Oh, I must ring her to say a big congratulations!” she said in excitement, “We used to be so close when we were young before life got in the way! This is so exciting! Congratulations on being an Uncle!” 

Robb nodded and Myrcella seemed to catch on slightly. She leaned on the desk to move in closer to him.

“If you’re worried about your sister, don’t be,” she said breezily, “She is young I know, only recently 18, and it probably wasn’t planned, but if anyone could handle something like this, it’s Arya. Tough as nails she is. She will be an excellent mother.” 

“Yes I know,” he said, standing up and starting to pace around like his mother had the previous night, “It’s just that, I mean, she is only eighteen. She should be getting high and staying out all night, not being home alone with a kid. I mean she hasn’t even told us who the father is. He could be anyone. And I, I just, I …” 

Robb just flopped back into his desk chair, trying to think of anything more to say. He looked up and saw Myrcella staring at him, so beautiful, with such empathy in her eyes that he knew if he could freeze this moment forever, he most defiantly would.  
“I’m sorry, Myrcella,” he mumbled, standing back up again and looking out of the window behind him, “I didn’t mean to burden you or take anything out on you. I just needed…” 

But he paused as he felt a hand slip on to his shoulder and squeeze gently. He hadn’t even heard her come up behind him. But that one hand on his shoulder gave him more comfort than the self-pity sex Jeyne and him had indulged in the last night after Arya’s revelation to the family. 

Then she spoke, with him clinging on to every word she said. 

“Your time will come, Robb,” she said in a gentle voice that exuded such kindness Robb wanted to cry like a baby, “You are a merely 23 years old and Jeyne is only 22. Stop forgetting that. There is absolutely no need to lose hope just yet. You don’t have one foot in the grave, but rather one foot out of the nursery!” 

With that she was off, walking back to the door and out to her desk, giving him the privacy they both knew he needed. 

When Robb looked back years later, he saw that that instant was the exact moment that he could no longer say that he just wanted to fuck his beautiful secretary despite his lonely wife at home, but rather that he was hopelessly in love with her. And had been for a while.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arya was lounging on top of Jon’s bed, listening to some music, when she heard a soft knock sound through the room. Someone was at the door. Pulling out the headphones, Arya was about to call out for who ever it was to come in when she paused. 

It wasn’t just her and Jon anymore, now there was Gendry too. Did she want to talk to him? Would it even be him?

Arya didn’t know and didn’t necessarily want to find out. She hadn’t talked to Gendry since he had allowed her to stay with him and Jon yesterday. She had been relieved when he had allowed her to stay with them. She knew it would probably be a very awkward but hopefully manageable situation. Particularly as they would have to hide all that awkwardness as Jon didn’t know the entire situation. 

But before she could even think further on the topic, the door swung open revealing out of control black curls and she knew that she had avoided the inevitable for just a little bit longer. Jon looked at her and smiled. 

“I thought you might not be answering because you were still asleep,” he said, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed, “but now I see you’re just ignoring me!”  
Arya let out a smile that must have looked like grimace as Jon’s own smile faltered and he wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in closer to him. He had such a look of gentle compassion on his face that she felt the tears that had only just stopped welling up in her eyes everytime she thought about what was going on, reappear as she let out a sob. 

“Shh, Arya,” he said pulling her into a comforting embrace, “They are just in shock, and perhaps a bit angry and upset with you. Can you blame them?” 

Arya shook her head in misery. 

“They’ll get over it,” he said into her hair, “Don’t worry it will all be forgotten as soon as Catelyn realised that she’s about to be a grandmother and goes into crazy preparation mode. And you know Father; it’s a well-known secret that you’re his favourite, although he would never ever say it. He can never hold something against you for longer than a single day. Soon they will both backtrack out of shock and straight into apology mode. Everything will be fine, little sister, just you wait and see.” 

At the hope in Jon’s voice, Arya felt her own spirits lifting. Her parents loved her of that, she was absolutely certain. After some time to absorb and process the information that they had become privy to, they would call her and demand her presence back at the family home.  
But a smaller voice at the back of her brain was nagging at the forefront of Arya’s mind. She knew her mother’s absolute distaste for bastard children and similarly, her lack of skill within the art of forgiveness. Arya just had to look at Jon to see that.  
But she couldn’t say that to Jon when he was presenting such a confident front to her that was completely for her benefit. So she smiled shyly, bobbing her head in agreement. 

“Thank-you Jon,” she finally gasped out, having not spoken for so long, “For both your kind words and letting me stay here, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t…” 

She trailed off as Jon placed a hand on her arm, silently assuring her that no thank-you was necessary.  
They sat in silent contemplation until Arya noticed Jon was dressed in his uniform. 

“Jon,” she started, a confused expression marring her face, “Why are you in uniform? I thought you were taking time off from military life in order to study a bit more.” 

Jon looked down at his uniform.

“Oh this,” he said, gesturing to his uniform as if he had forgotten about it, “Well I am doing a demonstration for some new recruits with Sam, so I had to fit the part of a military man.” 

Arya nodded in understanding. 

“Is Gendry going with you?” she asked hopefully, yearning to avoid any dreaded conversation with him for longer still. 

“No, no he’s not,” he answered, “He is taking over a different part of the demonstration, which I think is taking place tomorrow or the next day. Why?” 

Arya shook her head. 

“Just wondering,” she said placidly, “Hoping I might have the place to myself for a bit, you know me, I like my alone time. That and I’ve had a real craving for burgers and no one should have to endure watching me eat a burger when they barely know me.”  
Nice cover Arya, she thought sarcastically, very believable. 

Jon regarded her with a look of puzzlement marring his features but nevertheless, shook the thought out of his mind as Arya’s phone’s ringtone blasted through the quietness. 

Arya looked down and saw Sansa’s name plastered across the screen and quickly answered it, lifting the phone to her ear. 

“Sansa,” she answered cordially, “What are you ringing for at this early time? Wait, why are you even awake right now?” 

“Arya,” her voice came from the other line, “I’m always awake this early, its you who is never awake to see me awake.” 

Jon snorted a laugh at that to which Arya glared at him. 

“Anyway, I just rang to remind you that it is about 8 now and your appointment with the OB-GYN is in two hours so be there or else.”  
The other end of the line went dead as Arya lowered the phone from her ear. In all the events that had occurred in the last 24 hours, she had completely forgot about her stupid appointment. 

“I didn’t know you had booked an appointment with the doctor,” Jon stated, then continuing quickly, “Do you want me to come with you? I could probably get out of …” 

But he stopped on Arya shaking her head. 

“No don’t worry about it, it’s fine, Jon” she soothed, “You’re busy today and Sansa’s defiantly coming with me, in fact I don’t think I could stop her if I tried. You can come to the next one if you want. Later when the baby is bigger than a grape.” 

Jon nodded his head gratefully, smiling down at her. 

“Well as long as Sansa is with you… Just bring me back a picture of the little grape or grapette,” he said with force, “Promise me, Arya.”  
Arya smiled at his sweetness. 

“Of course, Jon.” 

Jon stood up and leant down, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“Well, I will see you later, little sister,” he said beginning to make his way towards the door, “I think breakfast is ready, so go to the kitchen and have some before it either gets cold or its all gone because Gendry, big strapping lad that he is, has eaten it all.” 

Arya laughed, nodding her assent before he closed the door quietly leaving her once again to her own company, sighing in his wake.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gendry had just flipped the final blueberry pancake in the pan when he heard the door to Jon’s room open and then close once again. He glanced over his shoulder only to spot Arya shyly walking out of the room, avoiding looking him in the eyes, her eyes firmly maintaining contact with the food that he had placed on the bench of the kitchen.

He had known that this would be awkward, but he wasn’t going to let it stay this way. Even if it meant that he had to make the first move to speak to her every single time they were together.

“Hey,” he said, uncertainty laced through his voice, “I didn’t know what you liked to eat so I made pretty much everything that I knew how to make.” 

As he spoke he gestured to all the food on the bench. There were eggs, bacon, pancakes with nutella through them and an omelette that had really turned into scrambled eggs. All the food anyone would want. 

To Gendry, it was clear overkill. Obviously him overcompensating for not knowing what to say to her or how to act around her. He had gotten up extra early to make it all, not that he had really slept all that much during the night anyway, and cooked it all in the midst of the anxiety of what was to come. 

That and I guess she’s eating for two now, Gendry thought, she should eat like it. 

Arya looked up at him and smiled a shy smile before quickly hoeing into some of the pancakes he had just been cooking before muttering something in between the mouthfuls of pancakes she was stuffing into her mouth. 

“What?” he questioned her. 

Arya paused to swallow all that had been stuffed into her mouth. 

“I said,” she reiterated, a look of annoyance covering her face at having to repeat herself or maybe at having to stop eating, “could you please take the eggs away. The baby prefers pancakes. He or she, it, does not like eggs. Eggs make me feel sick as fuck.” 

Gendry quickly swooped in, scooping the eggs up and beginning to eat them quickly himself. 

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” he stuttered out nervously between mouthfuls, “Who knows, I mean you can’t throw up a baby can you? So we will be fine.” 

Arya’s mouth dropped as she stared at him. Gendry’s face heated up with embarrassment at what he had just said. 

But Arya just burst into laughter, a slow laughter at first until the tears started overflowing from the brims of her eyes as she kept howling in laughter. 

“Did you seriously just say that?” she asked through the tears streaming down her face at his expense. 

He let out a nervous smile. 

“You’re cruel to me,” he teased, “I say stupid things when I’m nervous.” 

“More like you’re just stupid!” she japed. 

He let out a small laugh.

“Well, I can’t disagree with you there,” he said agreeably. 

They continued to eat, a comfortable silence surrounding them both until Arya spoke up. 

“So,” she said, looking up at him from under her eyelashes, “What are you doing today? Anything exciting?” 

From there on a comfortable conversation flowed between them. They may not have talked of things that were necessary and of great importance, but they spoke of day-to-day things, things that would make them more ready to approach the big things some day. Things that helped them better get to know each other. 

Gendry was just saying how he was looking for his next career move by considering going back to school when Arya’s phone blared again.  
Reaching for the phone, Gendry saw Arya’s eyes roll sky high as she looked at the screen. She looked up at Gendry as she pressed answer, smiling and holding her finger up in a signal for him to wait a minute while she answered the phone. 

Gendry smiled back, nodding, and started cleaning up his own plates, placing them in the dishwasher. 

“Hello Sans,” Arya spoke into the phone, dry annoyance permeated her voice, “What can I do for you 21 minutes after your last phone call?” 

Gendry could not hear Sansa’s response as he finished up his cleaning by wiping the crumbs that had split onto the bench. 

“I don’t know how I’m getting there,” Arya murmured into the phone, “I will take the underground or something, or walk. How far away is it?”  
Arya’s response was obviously not met well as a frown descended on her face as she listened to Sansa on the other end of the line. 

“I don’t need you to pick me up like some child, Sansa Minisa Stark,” Arya growled into the phone, “I am having a child. Not one. I will meet you at the obstetricians, okay?” 

With that she hung up the phone, slamming it on to the counter with a huff of disbelief. 

“Honestly, my sister seriously thinks that I am some stupid invalid, who can’t do anything for herself” Arya ranted, “I’m not some stupid…” 

Gendry heard her continue her tirade about her elder sister but the word ‘obstetrician’ was what had caught his attention completely. 

“Do you have an appointment for the baby?” he asked shyly as she stopped raging, merely continuing to mutter under her breath as she realised he wasn’t paying her as much attention as she would have liked. 

Arya’s eyes snapped up to his and he saw an uncomfortable guilt within them as she slowly nodded her head in confirmation.  
Gendry scooped up Arya’s plates and once again turned around, busying his hands with washing them so that she wouldn’t see the hurt and slight anger that he knew would be clearly written on his face. 

On a logical level, he understood why Arya hadn’t told him. Despite sharing a bed and a child, they were pretty much complete strangers, only having properly known each other for a couple of weeks. But he had told her he was willing, no, wanted to be involved and a small part of him had thought that that would mean being involved in everything. Yet, she hadn’t told him of her appointment with the doctor today or anything else. And it hurt a bit. 

“Do you have an ultrasound or something?” Gendry asked gruffly, still acting preoccupied, trying to sound as if he did not care that he wasn’t invited as much as he really did. 

Arya hummed her assent from behind him. 

“Well,” he said, turning back to her, trying to keep his face blank of all emotion, “I can drive you if you want? I mean, you know, if your sister isn’t picking you up and you don’t want to take public transport to wherever the appointment is. I don’t mind at all. Its up to you.” 

Arya was staring at him, a strange look twisted on to her face. 

“You can come to the appointment if you want,” she offered suddenly, “I mean I don’t mind, if you want to come you’re more than welcome. But like don’t feel any pressure to, I mean…” 

“I would love to come,” Gendry said, quickly cut her off before she could change her mind, “I mean if you’re comfortable with that? I don’t have to…” 

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t confortable stupid,” she snipped back in a manner that Gendry was slowly coming to recognise as very Arya like. 

“Sansa already knows that you’re the father too, so we don’t have to deal with anyone else finding out right now. I don’t think that I have the energy to fight with anyone else right now.” 

She paused for a second, obviously thinking over what she was about to say. “Also, more importantly, its your kid too,” she murmured, looking at him with a clear, honest gaze that denoted her absolute sincerity for him to have a part in their child. 

Gendry smiled back and they stayed like that for a second, just appreciating the moment before Arya hopped off her chair. 

“Well I better have a quick shower and get dressed,” Arya told him, “The appointment is at 10 am so we should probably leave around 9:30, maybe a bit later. This doctors right in the middle of the city, so it shouldn’t take too long to get there but you know, we should still try to leave early to be there on time. I mean Sansa’s anal about time, so she’ll get angry if we are really late but don’t worry too much about her, she always forgives me for my lateness.” 

Gendry nodded, still smiling at her. 

Arya smiled back darted back into Jon’s room to take a shower. 

Gendry tried to stop smiling but he found he couldn’t. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Glancing down at her watch for the third time in the space of 5 minutes, Sansa could feel her frustration at her sister’s usual lateness welling up in her chest. Arya was the one person who could never do anything on time or early. Her mother had often joked that that was the very reason that Arya was born two weeks late. 

‘I couldn’t wait to push her out, I was huge, but Arya takes her own leisurely time at doing everything’ was the phrase that Catelyn had often repeated to members of the family. Sansa, on the other hand, could never fathom even considering being late, and was subsequently always exactly ten minutes early for everything. 

So Sansa being Sansa had been standing outside the doctor surgery for approximately eight minutes. Now in the last two minutes before Arya’s very hard to get appointment started, she felt like pulling both her hair and her eyeballs out. But despite the inner turmoil raging around inside Sansa, she looked completely serene on the outside. The only indication of her raging internal anxiety being the constant tapping of her food in impatience. 

She felt like she was the only one excited for this baby. Arya’s lateness certainly didn’t show any latent enthusiasm coming to the surface. Rather quite the opposite. But she knew that Arya was excited for this child. Just rather than squealing and starting to decorate an nursery, Arya’s excitement showed in her eyes, in the way she would constantly touch her stomach unconsciously, not realising that every time she did, a smile would make its way on to her face. 

It really is cute, Sansa thought melting slightly at her hard little sisters happiness.

But while she had been getting slowly more lost in her own thoughts, Sansa had missed the person walking directly toward her. It was only when the shoes of the person can into sight that Sansa looked up from the shoes hurrying towards her to the face of the person. Finally, Arya was here. 

But it wasn’t just Arya. There was a shadow that followed closely behind her as they both hurried along. Or rather than a shadow, a man, much taller than Arya, that he cast a substantial shadow over her tiny sister. As they drew closer, Sansa scanned him. His black hair had been combed and gelled back, obviously in an effort to tame it and look more respectable. But even at her far away spot, Sansa could tell that it was gradually escaping it’s pushed back state, and would continue to until it looked shaggy once more as it had been the last time Sansa seen it. His profile was very handsome, even Sansa had to admit it. Well fitted black brows, a straight nose, high cheekbones and a jaw that looked like it had been sculptured by the Gods simply to taunt girls with its utter perfection. 

At least, Arya had the good sense to choose a handsome man to get knocked up by at 18, Sansa thought dryly. 

But he was not some pretty boy like Joffrey Baratheon had been. Like Loras Tyrell or Jamie Lannister. 

No, it was clear that physical work and excessive army training had created the massive muscles that corded through his whole body.  
His rough hands that denoted being of a lower class to so many of the people that ran in Sansa’s circle, were merely an indictor of his hard work in the line of duty that Sansa couldn’t help but respect. 

But regardless of what he was, he most certainly was the child’s father and it was good that he was here. 

Arya smiled sweetly as they drew closer, her usual method of apologising for her tardiness. And, this time, also for the surprise of bringing Gendry along to her appointment. 

Sansa just rolled her eyes in exasperation. 

“Sansa,” Arya said once they had reached where she was standing at the door of the clinic, “I believe you have met Gendry before. Gendry, Sansa, Jon’s other, less loved sister.” 

Sansa just rolled her eyes but smiled prettily at Gendry, sticking out her hand. 

“Hi,” she said, “It’s nice to see you again and meet you properly.” 

Gendry lightly clasped her hand and shook it, not fully pressing his entire hand against her smooth, white one as if he was afraid of dirtying it somehow. 

“Nice to see you again,” he said, his voice low and reflecting the tones of less savoury parts of London. 

Sansa smiled once more, before turning back to Arya. 

“Now, come along,” she said, trying to hustle Arya forward in an attempt to at least try to be on time, “This doctor comes highly recommended, but for me to see if that’s in actual fact correct, we have to, you know, attend the appointment!” 

Arya just rolled her eyes, walking in the door, placing her hands inside the pocket of the coat she had on and crossing them over like she was cold as she crossed the threshold of the clinic. 

Unlike Dr Fell’s very white, clean clinic, this doctor seemed to have a bit more of an artistic edge. Despite the little colour in the clinic, as the designer had stayed with the tones of black and white, the office was set out tastefully and warmly. 

Sansa walked up to the desk, pulling Arya with her. 

“Hello,” she said to the young receptionist, who merely looked up at her in silence, “Appointment for Arya Stark for 10am.” 

“Yes thank-you, please have a seat, Miss Stark,” the woman said with a cold smile, “The doctor has just finished up with his last patient now and will be out for your appointment soon.” 

Sansa nodded and tugged Arya’s arm, pulling her over to a seat on the side of the clinic, while Gendry followed them sanguinely. 

He sat next to Arya, shaking his leg up and down in what Sansa guessed was nerves. Arya sat next to him, hiding her emotions slightly better, but Sansa could tell that she was merely shaking on the inside rather than on the outside like Gendry was. And it didn’t help that both their parents weren’t there. In spite of never saying it, Arya wanted their support, especially their father’s, Sansa could just tell.

Sister’s intuition or something of its like, she thought in amusement. 

“So who is this doctor, Sansa?” Arya inquired after a couple of minutes of silence. 

Sansa rolled her eyes. 

Now you ask, she thought in aggravation, if I were pregnant I would be searching, reviewing and rating any doctor who was going to help me bring my child into the world. 

A stab of sadness made its way through Sansa. 

It would never be her here doing this. Rather it would always be her coming with her sister. 

Always an aunt, never a mother, she thought, a distinct feeling of agony weaving its way through her soul. 

But she shook her head, clearing it of bitterness, turning to Arya in order to answer her question. 

“He is a leading doctor in the field of obstetrics,” she recited perfectly, “with a speciality in multiple births, not that you are necessarily going to have twins or anything, but it’s always a good skill to have in a doctor. He was trained overseas, in Braavos, or maybe Meereen, I think, somewhere on the East coast of the continent.” 

Both Arya and Gendry nodded, clearly not understanding how any of that was important but being interesting none the less. 

“So Gendry,” Sansa started, deciding to attempt to make a conversation to scope him out, “Have you ever been to the East Coast?” 

Gendry looked at her and nodded his head almost shyly before clearing his throat to answer her properly. 

“Yes I was stationed over there in Lys on my first tour,” he said in a shy voice, “And after I finished that tour, I stay for a couple of months but then returned here. It’s lovely over there.” 

Sansa nodded in keen agreement. 

“Oh really! Yes I suppose it is,” she agreement, “I’ve only ever visited but Arya actually spent two summers in Braavos when she was 16. Or was it 14, Arya?” 

“14 to 16, Sans.” 

“Yes it was, wasn’t it?” Sansa replied dreamily, “Seem like so long ago, but I guess it was only two years, I mean you’re only 18…”

Sansa trailed off into an uncomfortable state of silence, before turning her head to look straight at Gendry. 

“And how old are you, Gendry?” she questioned with narrowed eyes, making Gendry squirm slightly under her heavy gaze.  
Sansa could feel Arya roll her eyes with annoyance at her inquiry. 

“23,” he answered uneasily, “24 in December.” 

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him and hummed in thought. 

“Let me see,” Sansa snipped, her tone becoming slightly disapproving, “6 years,” 

“Five,” Arya snapped at her, her anger showing on her face at her sister’s judgement. 

Sansa was about to argue back, when a quiet voice called out Arya Stark. 

All three of them looked up to the man that had said the name so quietly yet firmly. 

The first thing that crossed Sansa’s mind was how such a famed to be good doctor could look so odd. Like he was straight out of the hippy age of the 1960’s. It was bizarre. 

This doctor was olive skinned and lean. Tall but nothing to Gendry’s height as he still towered over him. But the strangest thing about his appearance was his hair. He wore his hair long, down to just below where his bicep would sit with one side colored a pale white while the other was a deep crimson. The two colours were literally split right down the centre of his head, parted with only the parting of his hair.  
But as much as the doctor surprised her, it was his reaction to Arya that surprised her more still as he glanced at her sister, only to then stare. Soon a smile broke across his face. 

“So a girl has returned to the West?” he said, his voice calm and soft yet inquiring. 

Sansa glanced back at Arya to see that she looked shocked and had paled considerably, but had, never the less, plastered a fake smile on her face. Only a sister could tell that it was less than genuine, being more a guarded smile than a pleased one. 

“Hello Jaqen,” Arya responded in a stunned voice, “Still speaking and looking strange I see.” 

“Hardly, lovely girl, a man is merely a trend setter,” he spoke with the ease of someone well practiced in verbal sparring, “And a girl looks even more beautiful than the last time a man set eyes on her.” 

Arya smiled tightly and nodded even more tightly in acknowledgment.

It was only then that Jaqen glanced around Arya, to see the two people that had accompanied her and were standing, patiently waiting, at her side. 

He smiled at them both before gesturing for them all to enter the room, introducing himself to both Sansa and Gendry more formally as they went. 

“Hello,” he said, once more glancing at them as he waited for them to enter the room, gently closing the door behind them when they did, “Dr Jaqen H’ghar at your service. And you are?” 

Before Sansa could introduce herself to the queer man, Arya jumped in. 

“Jaqen, this is my elder sister, Sansa and my... friend, Gendry,” she put forward, looking a little unsure.

The man bowed his head slightly in greeting to both of them, before his eyes turned back to Arya, a desire filling them up that almost made Sansa gulp. 

But that look was gone as quickly as that look came as Dr H’ghar moved on to why they were here. 

“So a girl is here for an ultrasound?” he murmured, looking slightly pouty. 

Arya nodded, moving to sit on the seat next to the monitor. 

The doctor nodded slowly, gesturing for her to lie down before reaching down to pick up a clipboard with paper on it.  
“Now before we get started, lovely girl, a man must inquire of you the answers to some questions concerning both yourself and the child,” he said, glancing down at the questions on the paper in his hands. 

“Firstly, a rough estimation of when the child was conceived?” was the first question. 

Arya clicked her tongue in thought. 

“That would be September 2nd,” Gendry said, finally breaking his silence. 

Arya’s eyes flitted over to his as she nodded in agreement. 

But Dr H’ghar just continued like Gendry had never spoken, merely writing down the date and making calculations. 

“Then I would say that a lovely girl should give birth around early May, if she is three months along,” the doctor mused, “This will be made certain when we actually have a more in depth look at the child and their growth. And the pregnancy has been relatively easy? Nothing too difficult?” 

Arya nodded again. 

“I did have some morning sickness earlier on, but that very quickly eased up, particularly after I passed the 12 weeks mark,” Arya explained, “All in all, I’d say that it has been particularly good so far. Wouldn’t you agree Sansa? I mean you’ve probably seen me the most.” 

When the doctor turned his piercing blue eyes on to her, Sansa almost felt a shiver run through her body. And this was no shiver filled with excitement that an attractive man was looking at her, but rather a shiver of dread at the eerily empty look in his eyes. But nevertheless, Sansa summoned her courage, answering with a voice of strength. 

“Yes I would say relatively easy,” she began, trying to convey her secondhand knowledge of pregnancy, “She was extremely fatigued in the second and third month, particularly when she was having morning sickness during the second month. But to be completely honest, I think that her pregnancy as been harder on us and the rest of our family, Arya’s mood swings have been a force to be contended with.” 

Sansa finished off her little speech with a charismatic smile, trying to charm the doctor like she did everyone else. But his face didn’t change. Gendry snorted back a laugh and Arya leant forward and slapped her elder sister on the shoulder, but his face did not change until he moved to write something down, his piercing eyes finally lifting their disorientating and very penetrating glare off her.

“And on your side of the family, is there any hereditary diseases or conditions that would need to be taken into account for this pregnancy?” the doctor asked after writing whatever he had needed to. 

Arya’s eyes flicked to Sansa, obviously thinking. 

“No I don’t think so, unless solemnness is hereditary,” Arya said with a small giggle at her own cleverness, to which Dr H’ghar smiled in amusement. 

Oh, she gets a smile but I don’t, thought Sansa in annoyance, stupid bloody doctor. 

“But on a serious note, no I don’t think so,” Arya continued, “My mother birthed five healthy children who had no birth defects or serious conditions.” 

The doctor nodded and looked down once more, speaking again as he wrote. 

“And on the father’s side, any conditions or diseases that may be hereditary?” 

Both girls looked straight to Gendry, whose brows furrowed trying to think. The doctor also moved his penetrating stare, looking at Gendry for the first time since he had walked in. Dr H’ghar face was as blank as ever, but Sansa thought she detected a small touch of jealousy deep in his body language. 

“Ah, no I don’t think there is anything really,” Gendry said uncertainly, “But I am not too sure. My mother died when I was about three and I never knew my father at all. So there could be things that I don’t know about.” 

Both Arya and Sansa regarded him with compassion in their eyes for a second while he paused. Growing up without even knowing your parents was something that they didn’t understand thankfully, but they felt a keen sense of pity for those who’d had to experience it considering their mad but loveable family. 

“Actually,” Gendry suddenly said before the doctor would lose interest in him, “There is one danger from my side, well I guess its not a danger, but my mother was actually a twin, I mean she had a twin brother, my uncle. So I guess there is a chance that, due to genetics, Arya could be having twins. But that’s about all I know from my family.” 

Arya’s mouth dropped and Sansa let out a sharp gasp as they stared at him for a second in shock.

“Oh please Gods, let that bloody skip a generation,” was the first thing Arya said looking as if her morning sickness might make a reappearance at any moment, “I don’t think I could handle that.”

Gendry smiled apologetically. 

“Well I guess, we will see when we look inside,” said Jaqen, once again seizing control of the conversation, “But first, I must measure, weigh and all the other boring things necessary for my work. So if you’d stand up again, Arya.” 

Arya stood and the less exciting parts of the appointment ensued as he measured Arya, getting a little too touchy at one stage, but for the most part ensuring that Arya was a good size for the stage of her pregnancy. 

But soon Arya was lying back down with Jaqen switching on the machine and Sansa felt excitement well up inside her, building to a climatic finish when she squealed in excitement as Jaqen reached for the gel, telling Arya to pull up her top to reveal her stomach. 

Arya just looked at her and rolled her eyes before looking at Gendry. 

“How is it that she seems to be more excited about this than we are?” she said shyly to Gendry, who laughed and came to sit next to her, across from the screen in a perfect position to see it with Sansa sitting next to him.

“This can be cold, lovely girl,” Jaqen said as he got ready to squeeze some gel onto the lower part of Arya’s stomach, “Especially in comparison to how hot the Braavos sun can get, as you would know.” 

Gods, this guy just gets weirder by the second, Sansa thought, how is he the best OB-GYN in the city. 

But Arya just smiled as he put some gel on her, allowing her to adjust before he gently placed the monitor on the gelled part of her stomach before pressing it down and adjusting it to get a better image. 

The image was grainy at first, and Sansa could almost feel herself leaning in closer, over Arya and Gendry just to get closer to the screen and see what was so special about all this. 

But then the graininess faded, shapes beginning to take form in this black and white mess. A noise came over the speaker, thumping faintly like a little bird gently flapping of a wing. 

Sansa thought she heard Arya gasp out a happy “woah”, but was too entranced by the scene to truly think if it was true. 

“Ah, the miracle of life,” the doctor spoke softly, looking at Arya through his eyelashes as if trying to share such an intimate moment with her. “There is your child. And that is its heartbeat.” 

Sansa glanced over at Arya and Gendry, who were now sitting closer, their heads almost touching in their effort to see their child. Or children. 

“Is it one child or is it the twins that were possible?” Sansa immediately inquired. 

Both Arya and Gendry quickly looked at Jaqen who merely tilted his head and smirked.

“Oh yes, the twins…” 

Jaqen turned back to the screen, turning the monitor in his hands around. 

It must have been the longest two minutes of Arya’s life, as even to Sansa the wait was torturous. 

However, finally Jaqen turned around to Arya and Gendry. 

“Congratulations on your child,” he said simply. 

“Child as in one child,” Arya quickly demanded while Gendry sat there and let her take control, “As in no twins, one child is inside me?” 

Jaqen tilted his head, nodding once. 

Sansa watched as Arya practically deflated with relief at that statement. 

As they all looked back to the baby, with Jaqen making measurements and talking about the development of the children, Sansa zoned out, looking down at Arya.

Her face, which had been full of worry at the idea of twins, had settled. Now she wore a look of absolute wonderment on her face as she stared at the screen, a light in her eyes that showed her to be utterly entranced by the sight of her unborn child. Sansa didn’t think that she had ever seen someone so happy, so full of excited anticipation. 

Her sister then let out a laugh and Sansa snapped back to attention, quickly looking back up at the screen. Jaqen had moved the monitor, now pressing it to the side of Arya’s stomach. But it was not that that had made Arya laugh, it was the little just formed feet that could be seen on the screen. 

Arya was cooing over them. 

Gods this is worse than I thought, Sansa thought mockingly, she’s gone completely soft over the sight of baby feet, she is a changed woman.

But then Gendry said something, most likely something about how soft Arya was becoming, and Arya’s shout of “shut up stupid” reassured Sansa that she hadn’t changed that much. 

But regardless of Gendry’s stupid comment, she leant towards him, pointing something on the screen and giggling. 

Now Sansa watched Gendry for his reaction to the sight of the child. 

Outwardly, he was not overtly emotional, not crying or blubbering like a stupidly happy fool. 

And thank the Gods for that, she thought, Arya wouldn’t like that. 

But there was happiness and a deep pride in his eyes that shone out. And as he was talking to Arya about the child, he unconsciously leant into her as well, even reaching out and talking her hand when they had nothing left to say or do but just look at their child. 

Sansa had never felt more like an intruder on someone’s else’s happiness than she did in that moment. 

Envy curled in Sansa’s stomach. 

She would never have this. Never get the opportunity to watch her child frolic about in her stomach through a machine with a loving someone next to her, gasping in excitement and amazement too. 

Sansa felt two strong emotions begin to make them selves known. 

The first was a deep resentful hatred well up in her heart. Why did her younger sister, the one who had always firmly asserted that she would never become a wife or a mother, get to experience the joy of being a mother, of having a child while she only dreamed of it. Why? 

But the second was guilt. She felt horrible that she suddenly had this deep abiding hatred for Arya. Horrible that this jealousy was starting to consume her to the point where sometimes she was forcing herself to be chipper and excited for this baby when all she wanted was for it to have gone away a long time ago. 

Suddenly, it was like she couldn’t breath. The absolute self-loathing was taking over, beginning to suffocate her. She had to get out of here before she did something that she regretted. 

So she walked blindly over to Arya, pressed a kiss to her forehead, mumbling something incoherent, and ran out the door onto the streets of London, hoping they would be her refuge from these terrible feelings. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sansa’s sudden departure from the appointment that she had been waiting for so eagerly disorientated Arya for quite a bit as she stared after the door that was swinging shut, her confusion paramount. 

But Gendry soon drew her attention back to the grainy feed in front of them. 

Gods, it was a wonderment. 

Arya could firmly say that she had not been happy about this child when she had found out that a conception had occurred. But now looking at a picture of it, even as bad quality as it was, Arya could feel nothing but a strange sense of wonder. Wonder at the child that she and Gendry had created and what they would be like, who they would become. 

But while half of her was filled with wonder, the other felt such fear. It pierced her very soul, so much so that Arya could swear that for a moment she had seen her life flash before her eyes. It was fear of being a terrible parent. Fear of hurting her child. 

But mostly, she thought in agony, I'm afraid of ever loosing it. I'm afraid that if I give myself to this child, my entire being, both my heart and my soul with all my love, that someone will take it away from me, and I shall never, ever recover from that pain. 

It was the same pain that followed Arya around whenever Jon was away on missions. 

A pain that she knew too well. The sharp stabbing pain of loss was not unfamiliar to Arya after what had happen all those years ago that had caused his death. An incident that still haunted her to this day. 

Gendry’s talking in her silence helped Arya snap back into the present situation. 

Jaqen was noddinv at Gendry who quietly inquired about getting a few photographs to take home with them. 

“How would two copies be?” Jaqen said, “One for the lovely girl, and the other for you.” 

You’re calling him ‘you’, she thought in amusement, really Jaqen?

Arya rolled her eyes at Jaqen’s blunt nature. Since she had known him, he had been like that. All flowery and twisted at one time, then blunt as anything the next. 

It didn’t help that she could tell that he disapproved of Gendry. But then he’d always disapproved of anyone with Arya other than himself. But that was ancient history, and not pleasant history either. But she couldn’t worry about that right now. 

“And one for Jon too, Jaqen” Arya said, “If you don’t mind.” 

Jaqen merely inclined his head, handing her a cloth to wipe her stomach with as he went off to print out the photos of the baby. 

Arya turned to Gendry who was still staring at the blank monitor, obviously thinking about all that had just occurred. 

She starred at him, leaning back and watching until his eyes flicked from the blank screen to her, a small smile settling on his face as he observed her too.

They didn’t say anything for a while; rather just sat there in their own contented little bubble as they dwelled in the happiness that their child had caused. 

“Have you felt it move more since the last time?” Gendry suddenly piped up, looking at her inquiringly. 

Arya tilted her head to the side in contemplation. 

“Yes a bit,” she said finally, after thinking about it, “Just moving lightly here and there. I suppose it’s not big enough to move much more than that or for me to feel it much more than that.” 

Gendry nodded in agreement, looking down at his crossed hands. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think it is big enough to be felt by anyone else at the moment either,” she said, somehow feeling apologetic. 

“Of course,” he said, looking back up at her with a smile that made his face just look so handsome, “Its only a little one yet.” 

They fell back into silence until Jaqen entered the room once more, handing the three pictures and a video of the ultrasound to Arya, as she struggled to her feet. 

“Here, lovely girl,” he said with a too friendly smile that had Arya feeling a little squeamish, “A man and a girl must spend more time together in the impending present…” 

“You mean the future,” Gendry deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. 

Jaqen just kept looking at Arya expectantly, completely ignoring Gendry who just rolled his eyes and looked away from him, his jaw tightening in annoyance. 

Arya smiled breezily, tiring to maintain an uncaring façade, rather than letting her annoyance bubble up to the surface. 

“I’ll see Jaqen, I’m a bit busy at the moment though to be honest,” Arya said placing a hand on her stomach and unconsciously glancing to her side straight at Gendry. 

Jaqen nodded, gesturing for them to follow him out of the room, walking closely behind Arya.

“Well my lovely girl,” he purred, reaching into the pocket of his white lab coat of a card, “If you ever find yourself unburdened, please feel welcome to come to me whenever.” 

With that he handed Arya his card, walking languidly back into his rooms. 

Both Arya and Gendry watched him walk away with expressions on their faces that while were both different, yet most definitely both conveyed similar annoyance. 

As they walked out of the office, Gendry looked down at her. 

“What was with that guy?” he said, a tense smile on his face. 

“He was someone that I used to know when I lived in Braavos all those years ago,” Arya said, sighing, “We went out a few times, before I had to leave and it seems to me like he wants to finish what we started all those years ago.”

Gendry let out a laugh. 

“Well I guess that’s bad timing,” Gendry said, his eyes alighting on her stomach.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Arya agreed, absentmindedly, “Doesn’t matter too much, I was never that into it. Or at least not as much as he was obviously. He was more of a teacher to me than anything, allowing me to learn the craft of boys and flirtation. ”

Gendry just smiled as they began to walk back the way they came to Gendry’s car.

“What happened to your sister in there by the way,” Gendry asked, “She seemed to be so excited and then she freaked out and ran off?”  
Arya looked at him, her brow crinkling in concern. 

“I don’t know,” she said slowly, “It was rather strange. Very strange actually. She was so excited before. I mean if anyone was going to freak out, it should have been me. Especially with the whole two of them thing. That would have freaked me out.”

Gendry laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Yes, sorry about that,” he said, looking up at her, “Just thought it may have been an important thing to know.”

“Just don’t be going around doing it again,” she said playfully as she waited for him to unlock the car. 

After entering the car, Arya began to put on her seat belt, listening as the car turned on with a purr. But it didn’t move and Arya swung around to face Gendry, who was looking at her while reaching into his glove box, bringing out a pair of aviators. 

“So, home now?” she questioned, giving him a smile. 

“What about some lunch first?” Gendry said with an even bigger smile as he put the aviators on, “I know this great place close by.” 

And in that second, with those glasses on covering unintentional puppy dogs eyes, Arya didn’t think that she could deny him anything so she shyly nodded her assent. 

Gods, he’s way too fucking attractive, she thought as her hormones stirred slightly. 

His grin widened at her nod and she couldn’t think help but think once again that he was just way too fucking attractive to say no to for anything. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car was relatively quiet as they drove to the place Gendry wanted to take them for lunch. But it was a comfortable silence rather than an awkward one. One where they could both absorb and process what had happen and their thoughts about it before having to discuss it with each other. 

Gendry could still feel his heart pounding after laying eyes on that grainy black and white picture that would, in a few months, be his own flesh and blood, his own child. It had been a rather strange experience, seeing the baby with Arya. The whole thing finally felt real, rather than some distant, made-up thought. No, suddenly it all felt very real, but a good real. 

Despite his youth and Arya’s even younger age, he couldn’t help the happiness that had welled up in his chest on seeing that black and white mess for the first time. 

Our black and white mess, he thought with fondness in his heart.

There would be a child to love. To pick up when it fell and kiss goodnight. 

A family to come home to. 

The idea of a family was especially inviting to Gendry. Despite having his elder sister Mya, he had always felt slightly alone in the world since his mother died. He had always wanted a family of his own which was, in retrospect, probably what drove him to join the army so young. The community that it had enveloped him into. That and the fact that he finally had someone else to protect once he joined the army. Mya had always been the one protecting him, sheltering him from the bad things of the world. And when he had been giving the opportunity to do that for someone else, he had jumped at the chance, unconsciously for that very reason. 

Well, now I have two people to protect, he thought glancing at Arya, Gods that’s a nice feeling. 

Thankfully Arya couldn’t see him looking at her through his sunglasses or else he didn’t even know what she would say to him staring as intently at her, looking at her from her curly, brown hair down her back to the tips of her dark eyelashes.

She would definitely not be happy, that was to be certain. 

“So where are we going?” Arya said, drawing him out of his internal state. 

Gendry moved his head to look at her. 

“Well, Jon mentioned to me this morning that you have been wanting a burger,” he said, “So I thought I’d take you to the place some of my friends and I use to go after training. It’s got the best burgers in town. Their cook, Hot Pie is excellent.” 

Arya’s eyes widened into a look of what Gendry almost thought could be desire at his mentioning of burgers and her smile almost blinded him. 

“WE ARE,” she almost squealed in excitement, “Yes I’ve been wanting a burger in all its oily goodness for like a whole week. I don’t know why but it’s been on my mind, I kept wanted one but I kept forgetting to get one or I wouldn’t have enough money on me to buy one. It was difficult.” 

She looked so hardened by the end of her small speech that he almost laughed at her. 

Saddened by a lack of burgers, Gendry thought in amusement, well that’s interesting to say the least. 

Arya saw his face edging towards laughter as she looked up.

She pushed him as soon as she could.

“Stupid bull, its not funny,” she near shouted, “I was seriously so upset. You know I am pregnant. I get very strong cravings that need to be filled as quickly as humanly possible or I might explode and with me the baby will explode too.” 

He just snorted, to which Arya sent a scathing look. 

“Just take me to your burger place, stupid,” she spat out in annoyance, folding her arms across her chest, looking like a chastised child.  
He let out another laugh at her expense and kept driving. 

“How are you feeling?” he said after a minute. 

Arya looked at him, feeling swirling around in the depths of her grey eyes that made his stomach flip for a second.  
Willow, he reminding himself in a scolding tone. 

“Well it was nice to see there was something inside there that was worth all the fuss it has caused,” she said, sending him a smile, “But it’s also…” 

“Terrifying,” he suggested to which she jumped on. 

“Yes absolutely terrifying,” she said, “I mean its completely my responsibility. What if I drop it, or shake it. Or don’t know how to look after it, what if I am a terrible mother. Like I don’t know if I would ever forgive myself.” 

Gendry’s hand sought out hers and he squeezed it in reassurance. 

“Firstly, it will be our responsibility,” he corrected kindly, “And you’ll love it too much to do that, I promise.”  
Arya smiled amiably back at him. 

“I think I already do,” she confessed quietly, making him smile, “but we really must stop calling it, it.” 

He laughed, nodding his head. 

“I know, it sounds like we are talking about a bloody piece of fruit…” 

“A grape,” Arya said, smiling clandestinely at him, “That’s what Jon called it, a grape or grapette.” 

“Yes, a grape,” Gendry agreed as he turned the wheel, before peeking back at her, “Do you want to know the sex?” 

Arya thought for a second, unconsciously taking her bottom lip in between her teeth as she did so. 

“No I don’t think that I do,” she replied, “Why? Do you want to know?” 

Gendry shook his head. 

“I wouldn’t want to know,” he said as he searched for a parking spot, before settling on one right next to the diner they were going to, “I’m a bit old fashioned like that, but I’d prefer a surprise.” 

“Well I guess we shall have one then if we both don’t want to know,” Arya said, as they both got out of the car, “But it doesn’t matter, I already know it’s a boy.”

Gendry stared at her through narrowed eyes, before looking away and beginning to walk forward into the shop, stopping only to hold the door open for her as they strolled in. 

“Nonsense,” he said, “It’s a girl.” 

Arya just gaped at him before coming back at him with her own fire. 

“And how would you know Mr I don’t want to know?” she asked indignantly, “is it inside you?” 

“No but the seed is strong in my family,” he said with certainty as he turned to flag down a waitress, “and we just know our own.” 

Just as Arya was about to argue profusely back, she was struck. Something about that phrase was so familiar. She could almost hear it repeated, but in someone else’s wheezy voice rather than in Gendry’s deep one. It was almost a sense of déjà vu that overtook her.  
Where have I heard that before, she thought carefully, searching her memory. 

But soon Gendry gestured for her to follow the waitress, putting his hand on the small of her back to guide her and she lost track of all of the thoughts that were whirling around in her head. 

The place he had brought her to was more of a diner than anything else, but it served the best burgers this side of the city and as soon as he saw Arya’s eyes round like saucers in excitement when she saw someone else’s order being brought past them, he knew that it was exactly the right place to bring her. 

Soon they were seated with menus, but Arya, to his great amusement, barely glanced at the menu given to her, but rather quickly ordered a large burger with the lot and chips with extra salt as well as large strawberry milkshake. 

Gendry silently observed her, ordering his own food quickly, before turning an interested eye to her once again.  
“So I take it you’re not trying to eat healthy for the baby?” he questioned in amusement. 

“Hey,” Arya argued, looking affronted, “I am at least eating for the baby. I’m just giving him what he wants. Which happens not to be completely healthy unfortunately. He’ll just end up fat like you.” 

“Her,” he corrected, completely ignoring her little comment about his weight. 

Arya glared at him, her eyes shooting daggers that he swore he could feel almost piercing his skin. 

Yet despite this he did the worse thing a person could do to an angry Arya, as Jon had once explained to him when they were bored on their mission and discussing his favourite little sister. 

He laughed straight in her face, shaking his head at her little spurt of anger. 

And at his laugh, she looked absolutely murderous. 

But Gendry was saved from further anger when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

As he turned around, he thought he saw Arya’s face get even more enraged as she stared over his shoulder. But disregarding her expression of distaste, he turned fully to look at the person. 

He could feel the smile that broke out on his face as he stood to bear hug the man who had tapped on his shoulder. 

“Young Griff,” he practically roared looking down at his silver-haired friend, “Or should I say Aegon bloody Targaryen! How have you been? Or more specifically where have you been? It’s been much too long, mate.” 

Aegon smiled up at him, his purple eyes dancing in happiness at seeing his old friend. 

“Gendry, it has been too long,” he near shouted back, placing his hand on Gendry’s shoulder once more, slapping it, “You really should come back to Lys, mate. Don’t know why you ever left. The wine is good and the whores better, yet you choose to come back to this frigid continent.” 

Gendry laughed in agreement. 

“Well come sit down for some time, if you are able,” he invited, having forgotten Arya’s presence for a few moments, “Fill me in on all your incidents. And tell me why you’re in King’s Landing?” 

Gendry turned, remembering Arya for the first time in a while, who looked slightly perplexed. 

“Sorry, Arya,” he said moving to sit next to her in the booth, gesturing for Aegon to sit opposite them, “do you mind if one of my old friends sits with us, just for a moment, he’ll be gone soon enough, that’s what he does!” 

Arya shook her head, smiling at him. 

“Of course that’s fine,” she said, moving over further into the booth so he wasn’t stuck on the edge, before adding nonchantly, “As long as he doesn’t mind watching a girl really eat, then he can stay.” 

“Sorry Arya I should have introduced you, this is an old friend from my time in Lys, Aegon Targaryen,” he introduced, “And Aegon this is my…”  
But he was cut off by Aegon’s quick interruption. 

“Its okay, Gendry,” he said, “We have actually already met. It is nice to see you again, especially now that I finally know your name, and such a beautiful name it is.” 

Arya simply nodded at him, with a dry smile before looking around her again, probably searching for her food. 

Gendry was completely perplexed. They knew each other, how? 

An unbidden feeling began to well up in the bottom of his stomach. Something that sat there like heavy lead, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. 

“Wait, you know each other? How?” he asked, voicing his confusion. 

“Knowing each other is a bit of a stretch,” Arya supposed, finally talking for the first time, “We have met briefly, that’s all, in the elevator of the hotel where my family lives. I don’t believe that I even said a word. Rather your friend here did all the talking.” 

Gendry snorted. That was code for Aegon flirted his hardest, although Arya didn’t bite.

“And how do you two know each other?” Aegon said, looking back and forth between the two of them. 

Gendry and Arya instantly looked at each other, not quite knowing what to say. How did one explain how they knew each other? 

“It’s very complicated,” Gendry said, summing up his feelings towards the whole situation, looking at Arya for support.

“I’m pregnant,” she said with a simplicity he envied, looking Aegon straight in the eyes, “He is the father and we just came from an ultrasound.” 

With that she looked back at Gendry. 

“And where the bloody hell is my lunch?” she snapped, angry at the entire lack of food present, “I’m starving, in fact almost bloody dying of hunger.” 

Gendry just laughed at her before turning back to Aegon who was looking extremely surprised, but he snapped back to attention on feeling Gendry’s eyes watching him. 

“Well that’s definitely surprising to say the least,” he said, sounding slightly stunned, “But congratulations mate, to you and your girl.”  
“I am not his girl,” Arya said venomously, “I am my own person, but thank-you.” 

A little bit of hurt at Arya’s strong declaration that she was not his spread through Gendry’s chest but he smiled at her thanks, nodding his own to Aegon. 

What did I expect, he berated himself for the hurt, that I knock her up and she’s mine, we barely know each other, don’t act like a wounded puppy, Waters. 

“Anyway, tell me of your travels since I last saw you,” Gendry said eagerly, “How has the continent been without your old friend there to experience it with you? Did you stay in Lys mainly or travel outside to the other cities…”

But Gendry was interrupted by a near squeal that exploded from Arya as her food was set down in front of her. 

“Well she’s enthusiastic, I’ll give her that,” Aegon said good-humoredly. 

Gendry snorted. 

“Yes if it’s anything to do with food, she’s bloody enthusiastic,” he quipped back, giving Arya a teasing look. 

“Well,” she said with a palpably superiority present in her voice, “I have to feed my big, strong boy.” 

“Girl.” 

“Boy.” 

“Gir…” 

‘Look,” Aegon interrupted once again, standing up, “I can’t actually stay, I have a meeting with some friends of mine that I cannot be late for, but Gendry give me a call so that we can get a drink and gossip like a pair of fishwives who just uncovered an interesting scandal. Here is my card, I don’t believe you have my number for this continent only the other, which is out of service now.” 

Gendry stood up and held a hand out. 

‘Of course, mate,” he said with a smile, “I’ll give you a ring. Sorry for the bickering.”

Aegon laughed, shaking his hand with enthusiasm. 

“Not at all,” he said, shaking his head in amusement, “It was quite amusing. And goodbye Arya, it was nice to bump into you again. Lets hope it becomes a more common occurrence.” 

Arya smiled curtly, nodding once again, but she was too preoccupied by her burger to really say anything more. 

And with that, Aegon was gone, allowing Gendry to sit back down and focus all of his attention on Arya. 

“It’s a girl,” he stated one last time before he dug into his own meal, knowing that she wouldn’t answer during her own eating. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arya stopped dead in shock, Gendry walking straight into her, when she saw who the person was waiting outside the boy’ apartment, standing there, looking so apologetic that she ran straight into their arms. 

And as her father’s arms wrapped tightly around her, Arya remembered that there was no greater feeling like this in the whole world. The absolute love that enveloped her every time she was drawn into his arms, it was just unconditional love. There was no feeling like it. 

As a child, Arya had always felt like while her mother’s love sometimes had conditions, her father’s never did. He never needed her to dress in nice clothes like Sansa did or have fantastic manners like Robb had. He just needed her to be herself. Whether that be wild and brash, or quiet and thoughtful, as long as she was true to herself, his love was there. And Arya had always adored him for that. 

As she stood there, she heard the door unlocked and Gendry enter the apartment, obviously leaving the scene to give her some time with her father. 

But then it was Ned’s voice that took up her mind. 

“I’m so sorry, Arya,” he whispered, “I don’t know why I told you to leave, why I abandoned you, even if it was for a day and a half. I am so sorry, my little wolf.” 

Arya just hugged him more tightly to her. 

They just stood there for a time, just contented to stay in the little bubble of forgiveness and love that they had created. 

Slowly they let go of each other, Ned releasing Arya to press a small kiss to her forehead just like he always did. 

“I love you, little wolf,” he said, grey eyes meeting older grey eyes, “And I will love anyone who comes from you just as much.” 

Arya smiled at him before gesturing for them to go inside. 

“And I love you too, Father,” she replied, “And I’m sorry you had to find out like that. I would have told you eventually but stupid Sansa hid one of the tests in our bathroom, Gods know why, and then obviously Mum found it…” 

Arya stopped for a breath, carefully considering what she was about to say next. 

“I’m so sorry for disappointing you,” she said miserably, “I never wanted to, but I couldn’t get an abortion, Father, I just couldn’t do it…”

But Ned cut her off. 

“You never disappointed me, Arya, I swear to you. I have always been so proud of you,” Ned said gently, as he lowered her onto the couch, taking a seat next to her, “I’m proud of you, to raise a child on your own is a very difficult thing. But I know that you will rise to the challenge, unless you have told the father…” 

Arya looked into her Father’s eyes. 

I can’t lie to him, she thought, not anymore, it was hard enough the first time. 

“I have told him and he wants to be involved,” Arya said shyly. 

Ned nodded. 

“Well that’s good, Arya,” he said, “do you want him to be involved? I mean, don’t worry about any of the financials, that will all be taken care of, but I mean do you want this man in you and your child’s life?” 

Arya considered, before turning her gaze back on to her father. 

“Yes,” she said, “Yes, I think that I do.” 

Arya felt herself pulled back into her father’s arms and gently rocked like she used to be when she was held as a small child. The warmth and feeling of love was incomparable. It was one that she could only hope to replicate one day. 

“You know, Dad,” Arya said, her words muffled slightly due to being pressed against her father’s chest, “We went for an ultrasound today. I guess I was just wondering if you wanted to see the photos that the doctor gave us?” 

She pulled back from her father, angling her head to see his reaction to her suggestion. 

Arya felt her heart almost explode in happiness when he answered with an eager yes. 

She ran to the table where Gendry had placed two of the photos down, obviously having taken one for him self. As she brought back the photos back to her father, handing them over to him, watching him smile in pride as he viewed his first grandchild for the first time. It was then that she considered her situation. 

She had seen the hurt in her father’s eyes that she hadn’t told him of her situation before he had found out. She didn’t want to be the cause of that again, so she squared herself up. 

“Dad,” she said, “I need you to listen to me now. I need you to be the understanding father I know that you are, the one whose study I kept coming into after I found out that I was pregnant because I just wanted to tell him so badly because he was someone that I had such deep trust in. I need to tell you who the father is because in actual fact you kind of know him. It’s Gendry’s, Gendry is the father.”


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! It has been too long I'm sorry!! But are you really surprised? You have probably noticed by now that updating is not my strong suit!! But I'm back with a chapter that was about 31 pages on word (over 17000 words)!! I even impressed myself just a little bit with the length of this chapter! But its all for you, the people who stick with me, even though I am (I will admit it) the worst updater to ever grace the internet space that is AO3! But I really wanted to get this chapter right and I wasn't happy with a lot of it, so I rewrote it a couple of times! I'm much happier with it now! Although its a bit too corny in certain places for me at the moment! But hope you all enjoy! Please tell me if you like it! It just makes me update all the faster!!! Thanks and enjoy!

Sitting at his desk, Gendry stared down at the sonogram photo that he held in his hands. He couldn’t decide where exactly to put it.   
At first he had wanted to stick it on the wall above his desk, so that every time he was sitting there cracking his neck as he gazed down at his computer doing some work or doing something else, he would just have to flick his eyes up and he would instantly be able to see it there any time he wanted to. 

But to Gendry, that seemed like a downright invitation for Jon to find out the truth. And he didn’t think Arya would be too impressed if that was how was how her big brother found out the truth. No, Arya would not be impressed at all. 

So then he’d thought about hiding it in his sock draw, so that every time he went into that drawer or even just wanted to see the picture he could get up and go to look at it. But that was just too hidden from view, too forgotten. 

He didn’t want any child of his to ever feel at all forgotten like he had been by his father. 

So he’d settled for taping it to the wall slightly above his desk. However rather than sticking it in the middle of the wall, it was taped directly behind his computer screen. Therefore a person could only see it if they were sitting in the desk chair and leant their head slightly to the side.

Something that Jon had never done. And hopefully never would do. 

After having taped it there, Gendry had just sat and stared at it for a while, knowing that Arya needed her time to talk with her father and work things out without his intrusive presence in the room. The father and daughter seemed very close to him so Gendry had no fear that they wouldn’t work it all out. 

However, that was not his sole motive for disappearing from the room. Not only did it accomplish that but it also gave him some time to absorb and process what had occurred in the last little while. 

Mya had always teased him about his tendency to think for a while before deciding to do or say something, calling him slow and stupid especially as young children. He had always been that way, contemplative, always weighing up options and the consequences of his actions before he made a decision about anything, regardless of whether it was big or small. But Gendry had never minded when Mya had laughed at him because his mother had always assured him there was nothing wrong with his need to absorb information, to process it, to think it all through so he made the best decision that he could. Before she was taken from him, she had often told him this. Whenever he sat, a small painful frown on his child face, she would always smile in her quiet way and gently push his hair off his face, tugging him into her arms. She would always say to him that he was not slow or stupid. Merely a processor, careful about what he wanted to say, so never to hurt anyone.   
She had always said that was her favourite quality of his. 

So that was why he sat in his chair planning to do. He sat there with the same frown crinkling his brow that Mya had called so ugly all those years ago as he thought about the past couple of hours. 

But at least for now his thinking time was to be cut slightly short as his bedroom door sprung open with a bang like it had been kicked open. Gendry almost jumped out of his skin in surprise. He swung his chair around only to wish he hadn’t as saw Arya’s father standing just outside where the door should have been, so white and obviously fuming, with an apologetic looking Arya floating over his shoulder as she jumped up and down to see him.

Fuming probably wasn’t the right word for how Ned Stark looked. Rather than being like hot and angered, such as his daughter often seemed to be, he was rather as cold as ice. Looking furious but contained. Annoyed but almost controlled. 

As deadly as the cold that will kill you without warning, Gendry allegorised in his head as he stared at Ned Stark. 

But despite all the beautifully poetic ways that one could describe the anger that was clearly written all over Need Stark’s face, all Gendry could think was ‘fuck’ over and over again. 

Gendry wanted to do nothing more than to shake Arya for not giving him any type of warning that she was about to open this can of worms. His eyes shifted to her, seeing that she was staring at him with a half apologetic, half guilty expression. 

But he couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised. From what Jon had said and what he himself had witnessed, this was so typical of the girl he was slowly getting to know. She was spontaneous and unthinking. Rash even. But it was what made her all the more interesting and enticing. She had a spirit that enflamed him. 

“Come outside into the living room, boy,” Ned Stark said through what looked like painfully gritted teeth, finally talking after glaring at him for what seemed to be hours, “Now.” 

Gendry felt his whole body freeze in fear. 

I’m going to die; he thought more than a touch irrationally, I’m never going to meet my child, because I’m going to be killed by its only grandfather. I’m going to die, no actually, I’m pretty sure I am already dead, I have to be by the force of that look alone. 

The panic must have shown on his face, as Ned Stark almost seemed to smile, or rather, smirk at his very palpable fear. 

“Now,” he repeated once again before turning and stalking off into the living room. Arya stood there at the door, looking very sheepish as she tired to quietly step backward before he could question her. But before she could run back to the living room to avoid any confrontation, he grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him as they walked out of his bedroom together, his breath hot on the rim of her ear as he whispered angrily to her in a heated voice. 

“A little warning would have been nice, Arya,” he whispered, annoyance permeating his voice. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back desperately, “It just kind of came out. I can never keep anything, especially of that magnitude, from my father.”

Her eyes darted up to see his expression to find no sympathy or even understanding etched in his face. So she continued. 

“I mean, don’t you hope that our kid is like that someday? Completely honest with his or her dad?”

Gods she’s good, he thought, his annoyance growing even more as he narrowed his eyes to glare at her as she looked up at him a small, innocent smile on her face as she finished her manipulating. 

She was completely turning the situation around on him just to soften him up. 

Of course that was what he bloody wanted, he would be the one the child was trusting. 

Gendry just kept glaring at her, deciding that he wouldn’t fall into the trap of letting himself soften up like he often did when confronted with a problem by a beautiful woman. No, Arya needed to realise that she had done something wrong. 

But eventually despite his firm desire to reprimand her, he just sighed and let his grip on Arya’s arm relax. Slowly, he began to walk out into the living room, where Gendry knew Mr Stark was waiting for him. He had always known that he would have to face Arya’s father sometime in the future and well, it did not seem like he now had any choice in the matter, it would have to be the present. 

No there are other times, he screamed internally at himself, times when I could ask for police protection or at least have planned this all out, what I was going to say to him and how I would explain myself. 

But in spite of his mounting fear, he kept walking straight toward where Arya’s father was waiting for him with Arya silently creeping behind him. 

And waiting Ned Stark was, or rather sitting on the armchair that Jon had brought with him, looking somewhat majestic as he glanced coldly at his surroundings. He looked like a king come to sentence someone. 

Gendry audibly gulped.

Gendry couldn’t help but think to himself again that if Arya was fire, then Mr Stark was all ice. He seemed so calm, cool and collected in that moment. But Gendry could still see the rage still bubbling in his eyes as he came forward to take a seat in front of him, feeling the couch dip as Arya sat next to him, placing one small hand on his knee for a split second, most likely to comfort and reassure him in order to help with the fear that was pulsating through his body, making him almost visibly shake. He just hoped that the shaking wasn’t as visible to Mr Stark as it seemed to be to both him and Arya. 

Come on, Waters, he thought to himself, trying to stir a sense of courage in himself. 

You have faced a lot worse than this and stayed completely calm, he thought again, thinking back to his recent mission with Jon. 

But that particular mission paled in comparison, seeming much less daunting than the eerily calm Eddard Stark, whose daughter he’d gotten well and truly pregnant. 

But soon Ned started to speak and thankfully, Gendry’s musings were cut short before he drove himself mad with the anticipation. 

“I should demand that you marry her immediately,” he began angrily, a glint shining in his eye that made Gendry know that everything he was about to say was the raw truth, “Make you do the honourable thing such as I would have done at your age if I had been involved in a similar situation.” 

Ned Stark glared at him, before a more contemplative look enveloped his face for a second. 

“However,” he continued, “I have a feeling that if I did, I would be the lesser. Having one less daughter at least. Arya would not want to do that.” 

Gendry turned to Arya, who had opened her mouth to say something that would most defiantly match the burning annoyance in her eyes at her father’s assumption, but she closed it quickly on receiving a less harsh warning glare from her father.

“But that doesn’t mean you can just brush off any of your responsibilities,” Mr Stark continued, looking Gendry directly in the eyes, “Both to my daughter and to my grandchild.” 

Gendry gulped. 

Gendry could feel the seriousness of Mr Starks words radiate through his chest as he felt, under Ned Stark’s angry gaze, that that was exactly what he intended to do in spite of his intention being the exact opposite. 

Gendry felt like he had almost done something directly wrong to Mr Stark. He had made it very clear that by doing anything to Arya it would be like he was hurting something belonging to Ned. That was definitely something Gendry did not want to do. 

“So since you’re not going to marry my Arya, I wanted to know what you propose on doing for her and your child? How you plan to support them both?” he said stiffly, looking at him expectantly. 

Right, now it’s my child, Gendry thought sarcastically, when it becomes my responsibility of course it’s my child but otherwise they are both all yours. 

But he didn’t dare say any of that, settling for looking timidly but very decidedly straight at Ned. 

“Well, sir,” he started, trying to appear completely calm like he had thought this all through, while his mind scrambled for an answer to Ned Stark’s question, “I have a job, I mean that I’m in the military. Or I was in the military, well still am. I have been since I was of age, and subsequently I have savings put away from being paid as you do get...” 

Gendry trailed off as Ned’s gaze narrowed in a look that Gendry felt called him inadequate. But he continued quickly, looking for something to cling to. 

“I also work a few other jobs here and there for extra money, either being a bodyguard or an occasional bartender and sometimes even a mechanic, whatever I can find really while I’m home.” 

Ned Stark didn’t look impressed, staring at Gendry through the still narrowed slits of his eyes. 

Gendry was quiet, trying to think what he should say next.

“And what are your plans for the future?” Ned asked much to his relief, “More tours or do you plan on sticking around for good?” 

Gendry’s eyes flicked to Arya’s who looked back in pity, giving him a small smile of encouragement that seemed to make it all a little better. 

“I don’t know about the tours, I mean I don’t know if I am going to do any more or if I will have to. I was actually thinking of going back to school, or more specifically back to university,” Gendry began, glancing up at Ned Stark as he spoke, “I was thinking of doing mechanical engineering as I have experience in the area from my military service. And it just seems to me like an area I’d be interested in.” 

“So you plan on leaving my daughter, who is also at university getting a degree in commerce and law, at home to singlehandedly look after a baby and then a young child by herself?” he further inquired, his tone becoming less cold and more angry. 

Gendry wanted to close his eyes in self-annoyance. He had been so caught up in impressing Mr Stark that he had left that little hole right open for him to worm into and exploit. 

“No of course not,” Gendry said quickly, rushing to find a way out of the sinking ship he had built for himself, “I just meant that I wanted to get further education. You know, in order to set an example for the child. But those plans can be postponed until the child is much older. Whatever Arya wants and needs.” 

All this was said in a rush to please Arya’s father, but Gendry said the next thing for his own sake rather than to please the honourable Ned Stark. 

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving Arya alone, especially when the baby is little,” he said, before looking at Arya, who looked back.   
He reached down, taking her small hand that was placed on her knee in his own hand, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. 

“We are in this together.” 

Arya’s smiled back at him, almost blinding him as he recognised the beauty behind it. She was so very beautiful when she smiled. 

Suddenly Gendry realised what he was doing and quickly turned his gaze back onto the patriarch of the Stark family. He was making as good as sex eyes at a girl with her father, who still probably wanted to kill him, sitting right there, watching him. So he flicked his eyes back to Ned, but it seemed that Ned wasn’t paying attention. Rather he was staring at them both very intently, his eyes seemingly far away from the present. Like he was remembering something in the very distant past as he looked at him, some sort of memory. 

But then Mr Stark cleared his throat and Arya’s head whipped back towards him in an instant. 

“Well as sweet as that sounds… lets get back to business,” Ned said briskly, the sweetness of the scene seeming not to move him in the least as he tried to avoid talking about what had just happen, “Where will you live?” 

This time Arya spoke, allowing Gendry to deflate slightly as the menacing glare of the Stark patriarch was temporarily no longer focused solely and accusingly on him. 

“Dad,” she protested, “We haven’t even thought that far ahead, I mean I think I should take care of telling everyone that its Gendry’s child before we begin to work that all out.” 

“No, we will take care of this now,” he stated firmly, his stare directed at Gendry while he talked to Arya, ‘Arya these are important things that I would have broached eventually, but now that you are both here, I want to talk about everything now because I don’t think that you really know what you have gotten yourself into. I don’t think either of you really understand what you have gotten yourselves into.” 

Arya tried to interrupt again, but her Father silenced her with a stony look before beginning to speak again. 

“I’m not saying you can’t do it, Arya,” he kindly rephrased to please his youngest daughter, looking at her lovingly, “All I am saying is that there is a lot to do before you have the child. I think that in the interest of being organised, we should get a move on it now. Also I really need to discuss this for my own self-assurance as your father so I know he is capable of helping. So I’ll ask again, where will you live, particularly after the baby is born?” 

Arya turned her head to look at him questioningly; Gendry felt that it was his turn to take some more heat, so he talked. 

“Well this is my place,” he ventured to say, “Rented of course but mine. Arya and the baby will always have a place here. It is just a little crowded at the moment with Jon living here too. And that’s without a baby in the picture.” 

“Ok so either Jon comes to live back home and you two stay here or the other way round with you two at the house,” Ned decided in a calm manner, looking between them, essentially daring either of them to challenge him to which Arya raised an eyebrow.

Neither directly challenged Ned but Gendry did splutter in total surprise. 

‘Wait, you would let me move into your house with your family and your daughter?” Gendry asked in astonishment. 

“Well obviously I would not put you in the same bedroom as you have proved you cannot be trusted,” Ned said, glaring at Arya as she snorted back laughter before looking down in shame, “But yes, for the sake of my grandchild, I would. And for the sake of my daughter. When Jon was born, I had to tend to him alone, as of course Arya, your mother was understandably very hesitant to help or do it as well, and it was very difficult, even with a nanny. If you’re going to be a parent, then you’re going to be one for the whole length, boy. ”

Gendry nodded, ducking his head down to avoid heated gaze of Arya’s father. 

“As if Mother dearest is going to be happy about letting Jon move back in,” Arya spat at her father. 

“Firstly, that is not solely your mother’s concern. Jon is my son and he will always have a place in my house with or without her approval,” Ned said sternly, “Secondly, Arya, your mother will allow it if she thinks it is best for you. You know that Arya.” 

Arya looked down, her jaw tense, but she nodded in confirmation at that. 

“So, what are we going to do about your schooling, my dear?” Ned said, once more starting with the questioning, looking between the two of them. 

And so it continued like that for the rest of the afternoon. Ned asking them the more practical and necessary questions of parenthood, while Gendry and Arya both scrambled to think up suitable and practical answers to his questions. Despite Arya’s initial annoyance, it was a helpful exercise as they began to work through the technicalities that having a baby brought. 

Gendry knew that Arya’s pregnancy had meant that his whole life was about to change, but he honestly had not realised how much. How was he meant to have realised? Unlike Arya he was the youngest person in his family. He was not feigning ignorance. He had never really been in a permanent environment with a baby. Mya hadn’t even been around him as a child. He really had no idea what he was doing. 

By the time Ned began to let up on demanding answers to questions, the sun was beginning its descent from the sky. 

They had established many things, the principle ones being that they would live at Gendry’s together and Arya would most likely defer school for a semester or two after the baby was born. Gendry’s attempt to go back to university still was up the air but in the mean time he would keep working as he always did. 

Ned had sat back in the chair at the end of their long conversation, looking very satisfied with himself. He had looked between them and Gendry thought he had seen a slight glint of approval in his eye. 

“I hope that this has been as reassuring for you as it has been for me,” Ned said solemnly, once again flicking his eyes between them both before focusing on Arya, “I will tell your mother what we have discussed in detail tonight.” 

Arya’s eyes hardened as she stared up at her father. 

Although her eyes were not focused on him, Gendry could tell that talking of her mother was a sore spot for Arya. A frown always descended on her brow and a hiss made its way into her voice when Catelyn was brought up in any capacity. However, Gendry did not blame her at all for her anger. He did not understand how a mother could know her child so little, have so little understanding of how her child was feeling. But Jon had said that while they loved each other fiercely at the end of the day, Catelyn and Arya had always had their problems. Perhaps this was just another problem to heap onto them all. 

Slowly Ned leant forward once again like he had remembered something. 

He captured Arya’s hand in his own. 

“I just want you to know, my little wolf,” he said, moving his thumb over her hand in small circular, soothing motions, “that both your mother and I will be here to help whenever you need and want us there.” 

Arya nodded weakly, smiling up at her father before he turned his heavy gaze onto Gendry. 

“That goes for you too, bo… Gendry.” 

“Thank-you, sir,” Gendry said, nodding his head in gratitude, toward Ned. 

Arya pulled her father hand into both of hers, clasping them in appreciation. 

“Thank-you Father,’ she said, before her voice became more angry, “But please do not promise what you cannot deliver. I don’t think Mother’s coming around anytime soon. I mean, we know how long that she can hold a grudge. I mean, just look at poor Jon.” 

Ned sighed so heavily, it almost seemed as though the world was on his shoulders. 

“Your mother just needs time,” Ned explained, “She’s having a hard time accepting all this. You know her, she’s not good at accepting imperfect things but we love her regardless. She will come around. It may be a slow process but it will eventuate.” 

Arya nodded, her face one part anger and three parts misery. 

“Also Arya,” Ned continued, “You must remember, this child is her blood, her first grandchild. The difference with Jon was that he was not blood to her. You know how she is with family, if anything she will smother the child rather than ignore it despite her disapproval of its conception.”

Arya nodded glumly, still looking rather unconvinced. But she did not say anything and eventually Ned spoke again after a brief silence, his voice encouraging and light. 

‘You know, my pup, she went shopping yesterday, and when she was putting the clothes that she had bought away in our room, I saw her folding a little, grey jumpsuit for a baby with a little wolf hood,” Ned added, giving Arya a comforting smile, “See, love, she’s nearly there. Just give her some time. We are both old fashioned. ” 

Arya merely raised an eyebrow on hearing that piece of information, huffing and looking down, muttering something that sound like ‘I don’t care’. 

But as much as Arya acted indifferent, Gendry saw the hopeful look in her eyes before she looked down. He knew she missed her mother despite the tempestuous relationship that Jon said they had. He could tell Jon felt slightly responsible for the clashing between them as the trouble between them was in part due to her sharp dismissal of him when they were children.

Gendry couldn’t imagine her not missing her mother. Gendry missed his mother everyday and he had barely known her before she was snatched away from him. How could Arya who had grown up with her mother always there, not miss her? 

Instantly Gendry’s mind shifted as he was reminded of the last things she had said to him before the sound of her screams downed out the sweet words of love that he tried to remember her for. 

But he was drawn back into Ned and Arya’s conversation when he heard mention of Jon. 

“Father, you won’t tell Jon, will you?” Arya said in response to something Gendry’s hadn’t heard. 

Ned signed, his face looking more weary and aged than Gendry had previously seen it. 

“You know how I hate keeping secrets and lying Arya. You don’t keep secrets from your pack,” he said sternly, “But no, I would never tell your brother. That is something that must come from the two of you. Or else I don’t believe he’ll ever forgive you, Gendry at least. Arya perhaps he will forgive you. But it is a secret that would cause him to never truly trust you again. He would feel betrayed. It is your responsibility to tell Jon that his newly acquired friend is the man that he wants to kill or, at the very least, severely maim for life.” 

Arya nodded, her features wearing an expression of relief. 

“Thank-you father,” she said with sincerity ringing true through her voice, “I don’t think that you know how much this means to me.”   
Mr Stark smiled at his daughter. 

“You are my daughter, my pup, my little wolf” he said quietly, “and that never ever changes Arya, no matter what you do.” 

At that moment, Gendry felt like he was intruding on a sacred moment between father and daughter, and immediately wanted to leave to give them the privacy they deserved. But he almost felt like Mr Stark would think him a coward if he left, so he stayed uncomfortably put. 

But thankfully, it did not take Arya or her father more than a couple of seconds to remember his presence and they immediately toned down the affection present in the atmosphere around them.

“So Gendry,” Mr Stark said, who was finally looking less intense than he had previously although an air of careful anger still remained under the surface of his body language when he spoke, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen, “What have your own parents said about their impending grandchild?” 

Gendry felt the blood drain slightly from his face as the sadness crept into his heart, freezing it a little bit colder than it had been. But he looked back at Mr Stark steadily before answering calmly and directly. 

“I don’t have any parents,” he said quickly, his eyes flickering down from meeting Mr Stark’s own eyes, “I mean, of course I did once but my father was out of the picture by the time I was born and my mother was abducted when I was younger, I think that I was about two at the time, and presumably killed. So I don’t remember a lot about her apart from her long blonde hair and her love. But I do have an older sister named Mya who I grew up with.”

He glanced back up at the other people in the room. He didn’t even have to look at their faces, as by just silence in the room, Gendry could feel the pity emanating from the two Starks and he absolutely hated it. But it couldn’t be helped; it was the reaction he always got when he talked of his parents. 

“I’m very sorry about your mother, no child should have to endure such a thing,” Ned Stark recited with sincerity, pausing until the tension that Gendry’s confession had built started to dissipate, “Does your older sister remember your father at all?” 

Gendry felt a frown descend on his face at that question before he shook his head. 

“Not really,” Gendry said as he frowned, trying to remember what Mya had said, “I mean she said that she remembers a big man who used to throw her up in the air as a child, who was always laughing and being merry. Said he looked kind of like me. Same dark hair, a darker skin tone and the same blue eyes. But that’s about all she remembers. I mean, both of us were raised by her Godfather before he died when I was about 14 and she 18. So we don’t really have any memories of either of our parents, that is her mother, my mother and our father.”  
Ned had been nodding all the time he talked, his face quite suspiciously blank as if he was hiding thinking about something.   
But suddenly it was no longer Ned he was thinking about. Without even noticing it, Arya had crept closer and closer during his story until she was almost in his lap. 

When he finished, she flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly to her. 

‘I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his ear. 

All Gendry could feel was her warm body pressing against him, bringing back a flood of not so forgotten memories. The smell of her skin, of her hair, of her everything had wafted over him and lingered everywhere, not giving his nose a second to part with it, not that he really wanted to.

But he hugged her back, pulling her in closer, knowing that this might be his only chance to really hug her for a while. 

When he finally released her, he looked at Mr Stark who was watching them with a weary expression on his face. 

“See Mr Stark, that’s why you never have to worry about me giving up on your daughter or our child,” he said, feeling like he really needed to say what was about to come next, hoping that it didn’t sound too clingy, too over dramatic, but rather expressed his commitment to this all, “because inside Arya is practically the only family that I have left.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sansa hadn’t talked to anyone in what felt like weeks, although in actual fact had only been a day or two. She was self-admittedly wallowing in self-pity and depression. She just couldn’t help it. Arya’s doctor’s appointment had reminded her too much of what she couldn’t have. What she would never have. She hadn’t been able to deal with it all, and in spite of her guilt for leaving Arya like that and then subsequently avoiding and ignoring her phone calls and multiple texts, she still wasn’t able to call her sister or at the very least even text her back.   
So here she sat, struggling in indulgent self-pity at a bar, nursing a drink of admittedly not hard liquor, only a white wine spritzer, contemplating the mess that her life had become. 

Gods, she thought in annoyance, when I was young I thought that my life would be so much better. 

Sansa had thought that her life would be very different to what it was. She had envisaged that by 22, she would be living a much different life.   
A young Sansa had thought that by now she would have finished her degree in the liberal arts, majoring in medieval literature. A degree that she had mostly gotten for the sake of getting one rather than to do anything with. She had never been like Bran or Arya, who had both easily taken to learning at young ages, rather she had internally dubbed herself a self professed trained lady. A woman who had been bred for a life that involved a good marriage, polite conversations at charity events and many children. 

Honestly, she had thought that she would be married to a handsome man by now. A wealthy man. A man that she could be proud to show off.   
And she had thought that she had found that man in Joffrey Baratheon. 

And to be completely honest, for a while, he had seemed like the perfect man for her. He had been charming, sophisticated and oh so very smooth. And she had been so blinded by his perceived perfection. Despite the warnings she’d had against him, warnings of his cruelty, particularly Arya’s quite vocal warnings, she had kept pursuing him blindly. Keep allowing him to pursue her. And that was her mistake to bear, she had to shoulder the consequences for that mistake alone. 

Sansa knew now that the first time Joffrey had grasped her shoulders with cruel strength she should have run for the hills. But in that particular incident, she could forgive herself for staying or at the very least understand why she had gone back to his apartment the next day.   
But it was after that little prick had sent her to the emergency room the first time for wearing a skirt of a shorter length than he approved of to a party that she truly questioned why she had returned to his apartment the next day. If Sansa had to guess, she would say that her reasoning had been exactly what Arya had once spat at her in a fit of anger during one of their long arguments about Joffrey and other equally as disagreeable factors that had come between them. That she had stayed all that time because she was too enchanted by the idea of what her and Joffrey could be, to face what they really were. Too blinded by the notion of the perfect life she could have, too disillusioned by it all to recognise the heartache that a life filled with more than occasional slaps across the face and constant bruising all over her body would bring. 

She had just wanted her life to be a movie. Full of romance, perfect love and corny words. Gentle caresses that other girls would be in awe at the sight of.

And at the time it had seemed that this perfect, dream worthy life was one that a man like Joffrey Baratheon could provide her with. 

Now she could recognise that Joffrey was merely externally perfect. Picture perfect. But his nature, his cruelty and his innate roughness left a lot to be desired. 

But then, she hadn’t been as evolved as she currently was, she had been much too naive for the likes of Joffrey. She had stayed and suffered in silence believing it to be her only option. 

The extensive beatings and abuse that she had been subjected to for so long at the hands of the little blonde prat had caused so much destruction in her life. Not only were her fallopian tubes damaged beyond repair to ever allow for a normal conception and any sort of normal pregnancy but Sansa’s relationships with her family had suffered extensively.

Primarily her relationship with Arya was what had suffered the most. Her and her sister’s relationship had never been a shining example of sisterly love even prior to her relationship with Joffrey. But it had at least been normal. They had fought profusely over anything and everything, never apologising to each other, even when they had felt that they really ought to. Arya would address Sansa as Lady Stupid while Sansa would constantly make Arya feel inferior by calling her ‘Arya Horseface’ and a multitude of other unpleasant and cruel names. But that was normal for the two of them. Sisterly. They both knew that underneath it all, they loved each other. 

However, as soon as Joffrey had set his eyes on Arya, Sansa has sworn she saw desire consuming them. Despite their forceful hatred for each other, Sansa had sworn to herself for months after they had met that Arya had wanted Joffrey all for herself. Jealousy had curled in Sansa’s stomach and in her heart and she had treated Arya so badly. Sansa was ashamed of how cruelly she had treated Arya. Particularly when Arya had come to her, despite her awful attitude, clasping Sansa’s hands in her own and told her Joffrey’s reputation for leaving a trail of bruised and battered prostitutes and past girlfriends behind him wherever he went. Warning her to stay away. But once again the ugly head of Sansa’s jealousy had reared its head. Sansa had spitefully cursed her sister, calling her warnings lies, thinking that Arya had wanted Joffrey for herself. She would never forget the look of hurt in Arya’s eyes as she called her a greedy whore. 

But moreover Sansa would not forget that look because it was not hurt on Arya’s part, her sister had hurt for her. 

But despite that Sansa had kept screaming. 

They had not talked for months after than fight, or more specifically Sansa had refused to talk to Arya even when they had both come to family dinners and her sister had tried to make any sort of conversation, obviously hoping to repair their batted relationship. After a while, Arya stubbornness had kicked in and she had ignored Sansa in the same way Sansa had ignored her. 

But, it had still been Arya who had held her hand, rubbing soothing circles on it, when she had lain in a hospital bed, sniffling and stiffening whenever she moved because it hurt so much. 

Her parents had similarly been concerned, on the one hand trying to support her, as she had evidently had wanted to pursue a relationship with the Baratheon heir, but very hesitant on the other hand as they had not trusted Joffrey in the least. 

They had been distraught when they had found out what Sansa had endured at the hands of that animal. Her father going straight to Robert and the police to have Joffrey arrested. 

Her father had been fantastic during it all. She had finally felt like his daughter, not that she hadn’t known he loved her but she finally felt as important and exalted as Arya had always been by him.

Even now only her father knew of the unlikelihood of her ever having children. He had been with her when a doctor had revealed the news to her. She had cried into his shoulder for a good hour, feeling like a three year old. Out of all the pain that Joffrey had caused her, it was definitely the most painful thing he had done to her. Sansa had wanted children since she was a child and finding out that she could never have them, even one day far in the future had hurt a lot. 

They had always been apart of the plan. It was one of the most difficult moments of her life being suddenly told that she had as good as a one in a million chance of ever naturally, or even unnaturally, having a child of her own. 

And as selfish as it sounded, as selfish as she felt for feeling this way, she was feeling extremely resentful toward her sister once again.   
Arya always gets everything, Sansa thought crossly, childhood resentfulness welling up in the forefront of her mind, our father’s affection, our mother’s respect and all of our brother’s love and friendship. 

But Sansa could never say she did not enjoy all that and more. She knew that she received all those things from the various family members but Arya always seemed to be getting what she wanted.

And now, she thought as the drunk anger starting to bubble over and around in her stomach, she has a good looking man at her side, a babe in her belly and happiness in her heart even at the tender age of 18. 

And what do I have, she questioned stirring her drink in depression, the chance to be an aunt and nothing else. 

Sansa knew rationally that she was deluding herself, that Arya was not in fact as happy as all that. 

Although now, she was slowly beginning to see how she could deal with having a baby and all the factors surrounding it, it had taken her a while to accept her pregnancy. She was going to be a young single mother. That was never easy. 

But at least she gets the chance to have it hard, Sansa thought stubbornly, persistent in her effort to brood. 

“So what are you sulking about?” a voice spoke from in front of her.

Sansa looked up in surprise toward the bartender, a girl cleaning a glass was lounging in front of her, looking at her intently as if she were trying to nail down every emotion present in her face. 

Sansa frowned at her forwardness, before sitting up straight to answer her, her very manner exuding haughtiness unique to her. 

“Why do you want to know? I mean, what business is it of yours to know?” she asked primly, regarding her up and down with a look of complete superiority. 

The girl just shrugged, obviously not daunted in the least by Sansa’s attempt at intimidation. 

“I just don’t like seeing pretty girls so sad,” she mused, “And you look like you need someone to talk to…” 

She trailed off before quickly adding something. 

“And I’m extremely bored here, I am doing nothing but serving you since no one else is around.” 

Sansa looked up at her for a moment, glancing around the room to confirm she was correct, before slumping down in her seat once again, stirring the wine she had ordered.

She glanced back up at the girl, looking her over, considering whether or not it would be a good idea to confide her woes, worries and heartaches in a complete stranger. But looking into the large concerned doe eyes of this bartender, the mixture of pity and interest shone in their depths pushed Sansa to give in to her base instincts. She supposed it was a better idea to let her feelings out on a stranger than out on Arya, who was not aware of her own inability to have children. She didn’t want to make Arya feel guilty for being about to do what she couldn’t. Yet she did want her to feel that way. 

Gods, I’m messed up, she thought looking back up to the girl who was looking expectantly at her. 

“My sister is having a baby,” she ventured, watching as the girl’s brow furrowed in confusion at her statement, “And I’m sad and slightly jealous… a lot jealous because while my eighteen year old sister is pregnant, I can never be.” 

The girl’s brow cleared as she looked at Sansa. 

“So you can never have children?” she asked, her voice gentle but not full of the pity that Sansa had expected. 

“No,” Sansa said softly, “My tubes are too damaged, I will never have children of my own.”

The girl perked up. 

‘Neither will I,” she revealed, the white of her teeth starting to peek through her lips as she fought a smile, “But that’s because I’m much too gay to have any rather than unable.”

Sansa stared at the girl. 

“Gods, you’re not very good at cheering people up,” she said drily, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well I made you think of something else, didn’t I?” she said, “But had you let me finish… What I was going to say was that, regardless of me not being able to have a child with the girl I love and all, I could still have a child. And so can you. It may not be your flesh and blood, but when you see it, it won’t matter. It would still be yours.” 

Sansa considered this. It was wholly true. 

“And take it from a girl who has always had a jealous streak directed towards her younger brother, particularly when it comes to the girls that he reels in without even wanting to,” the girl said, taking a breath, “Don’t let that jealousy get in the way of the relationship, it will only reap havoc. And in the end you will lose as it will be your relationship with your sister that will be ruined.” 

The girl made perfect sense. Such perfectly simply sense. And a part of Sansa agreed with her entirely. But the other part, the darker side of Sansa, was still contending with the jealously and resentment. 

But she just looked at the girl and smiled. 

“You sound like you have experience in this area?” she said, leaning in closer toward the girl. 

She laughed a very musical laugh, her lips falling open as she smiled to reveal white teeth that seemed to glow in the dim interior of the bar.   
“Yes well I was being honest when I said that I have a brother who pulls every girl that I think is remotely hot,” she said, looking down to the glass she had started cleaning, “I had to get over a lot of jealousy surrounding him. Not only his ‘prowess’, if I could say my shy brother had prowess, but the love and attention he always received from everybody while I was slightly forgotten or at least felt forgotten.”   
As the girl looked down, Sansa felt a kinship with her. 

But Sansa could never say that she was the forgotten sibling. When they were young, she had been the one to shine while Arya was always in the shadows. 

The realisation of how she must have made Arya feel hit her like a pain in her chest. 

She wanted to forget, not think of her own anger and her own cruelty. So she turned back to the girl bartending and they talked about nothing and everything into the night. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the days after Arya had told her father everything, she felt lighter. She felt relieved. Her father had removed so much of the burden that she had been shouldering. He had always been such a calming influence. A rock in which she could lean on whenever she needed to. She was so glad that he knew absolutely everything now. 

Gendry on the other hand was another matter completely. Arya could feel that despite her father knowing, Gendry now felt more burdened. Almost like her father’s expectations were weighing down on him, pulling him down. Ned was expecting him to take care of the both of them.   
He hadn’t said anything to her about it but Arya could just sense that he was feeling particularly stressed and anxious. 

In fact, he hadn’t said anything to her at all. He hadn’t been speaking to her since her father had left that day.

Arya could tell he wasn’t too angry with her. He would still pass her food at dinner and indirectly ask her how her day had been when talking to both her and Jon. But he no longer sat quietly beside her during the day watching mindless TV or smile at her softly in the mornings when she stumbled out of bed to have breakfast with him and Jon. Arya could tell he was annoyed with her for telling her Dad without warning him.   
But more than that, Arya could tell he was processing all that had happened. That was definitely something Arya understood. 

So she gave him his space. Allowed him all the time he needed. Or at least all the time that she thought he would need.

But unfortunately Arya had never been known for her patience. In contrast, her impatience was notoriously well known by all her family, the majority of her friends and even a few people who she had had little to no contact with. It was like her bad trait was something very well known and very well accepted by the global community. 

So as time went on and Gendry remained silent, or at least quieter than usual, Arya grew steadily more and more frustrated. It was eating away at her slowly. She knew that she would explode in one of the coming days. Every single time Gendry saw her now, rather than giving her a dopey smile, a small frown would take over his face as he looked at her, light flowing from his eyes, before sharply looking away. She had tried to engage him, to talk to him, to joke with him so that he would cease his frowning and revert to his former self. So that he would stop being so angry with her. But it hadn’t worked so far. 

She just wanted to scream at him, stamp her feet and demand that he forgive her completely. 

But if Arya were to be completely honest with herself, she was still a bit too intimidated to just scream at Gendry so that he would get over whatever it was that was bothering him since their discussion with Ned. They hadn’t known each other long enough to do that, they just weren’t yet in that comfortable place in which she could do that and be sure he would actually listen to her rather than take offense and never talk to her again. 

So as time went on, the silence between them continued. To Arya it almost seemed like a competition of sorts, a silent feud between the two of them of who could be quiet the longest. 

However early one morning a few days after Ned’s visit, it was proved most certainly that Arya would be the loser of the one-sided feud she had started in her own mind. 

She was eating some breakfast that Jon had made her before he left, when Gendry finally emerged from his bedroom one morning, looking half dead. His eyes were still dopey and his hair stuck up in every direction possible. Arya didn’t think that she seen him look so cute. 

But as soon as he saw her, his eyes changes from being tired and barely open to suddenly hard and cold. He nodded a cold good morning to her and went straight to the fridge. 

Arya snapped. 

“Would you get over it already?” she snapped at him, glaring heatedly at his back. 

Gendry turned his head to look at her. 

“What?” he questioned with bleary eyes. 

Arya clicked her tongue in annoyance. 

“The whole hurt, angry man thing that you have been modelling for us since Dad left,” she growled at him, not bothering to look up from her phone, “I have had enough.” 

“I’m not angry with you, Arya,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear as he turned back to face the fridge. 

Her head snapped up.

“Are you joking?” she spat at him, her voice beginning to get slightly louder, “You have barely looked at me since the other day. You won’t talk to me. You didn’t even say good morning to me just now, all you did was nod. Are you seriously going to stick with the story that you’re not angry or upset in some way, shape or form?”

Gendry had turned around to face her by the time she had finished her little speech. He just looked at her for a second before shutting the fridge and beginning to walk slowly back to his room. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” she shouted, standing up, feeling a great need to reach down and throw her plate at his hard bull-headed head. 

He paused his walking, quietly repeating that he was not angry with her. 

“Can you just stop the bullshit honestly, Gendry?” she yelled, “And either tell me why the fuck you’re angry or get over it and stop being fucking angry?” 

By this stage Arya was much too far-gone to reign in her temper. She could feel the anger and resentment that had been welling up in her chest in the recent days beginning to dissipate as it was released. The only issue was how heatedly it was being released. 

Gendry spun around, the anger in his face due to her goading astonished Arya. 

“I’m not angry with you, Arya,” Gendry yelled in frustration. 

At that Arya paused, her eyes searching him as she let what he had shouted at her sink in slightly. She felt now that he had turned around and faced her, shouted at her, that he was finally speaking the truth. 

“But…” she paused as she thought about what she wanted to say, “but, if you are not angry with me why are you acting this way? Brooding constantly and instantly frowning when we cross paths?” she said with desperation seeping into her voice. 

“Because I am scared, Arya,” he declared bluntly looking at her. 

Arya paused. How had she not stopped to consider the idea that he was simply frightened? I mean this whole situation often kept her up at night, why not him? 

“I mean, I knew that your father would find out eventually and that didn’t stress me out, but he brought up so many valid points,” he said, “I mean, there is so much to consider. I mean what if we can’t look after a baby, both physically and financially. What will happen? I… I… I’m bloody terrified Arya, and if your not as well then you’re stupid.” 

He trailed off, looking down at his feet before slumping down on the stool near the kitchen bench. He stayed like that for a second before looking back up at her. 

“I mean, like all I think about now is how I am going to make enough to send this kid to a good school like the one you went to?”   
Arya was startled; she’d never even thought that was what he was worried about. 

“I mean I know that that is stupid and everyone says that all that should not matter as long as the kid is surrounded by love and all that crap,” Gendry said, looking down, “But it matters to me. I mean I had absolutely nothing growing. Nothing. I do not want that for my kid.” 

Arya started to say something but Gendry instantly cut her off. 

“Don’t you even say that your family can help,” Gendry said, “This is my kid and I’m not a charity case who needs help, I make money. But I just don’t want my kid to grow up like I did.” 

He sighed before finishing what he wanted to say. 

“I’m not angry with you, Arya, truly I’m not, but at the moment all seeing you reminds me of all the things that I need to work out and plan and how scared I am because I have no fucking clue what I’m getting myself into yet I keep heading into this darkness blindly and willingly.”   
Arya was shocked to say the least. Of all the things she was expecting him to say, everything she thought he was feeling, she couldn’t have been more wrong. This wasn’t the Gendry she had seen in the past. There was cocky, sexy Gendry from all those months ago. Sweet, attentive Gendry from the last few weeks. Playful Gendry, and even angry Gendry from when he had found out about her pregnancy. To her, it felt like he wouldn’t even feel fear. He just was not that type of person. But he was and she could understand why he was feeling like this. 

She went and sat next to him, leaning back against the bench available behind them. 

She sighed. 

“You know,” she ventured to say, “I’m fucking terrified too.” 

Gendry scoffed, “So helpful Ar…” 

“Let me finish,” she interrupted, glaring at him, “I was going to say, I am fucking terrified sometimes. No actually pretty much all of the time. But knowing that you’re there always makes me feel better.” 

He turned his head slowly to look at her, examining her as she spoke.

“Every time you’re freaking out, remember that I’m here for you to think about too. We are not alone in this. Neither of us is alone.”   
She touched his hand before getting up off the stool to leave him with some time. But before she entered Jon’s room, she heard him speak quietly once more. 

“Thank-you Arya.” 

She smiled to herself as she shut the door behind her. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Jon had first brought Arya to stay with them over a week ago, he had been only thinking of his little sister. Knowing that he would do anything in the world for her. Especially in a time when she really needed him. So bringing Arya to live with him for as long as she had needed was not something that he’d even thought twice about. 

For the first few days after Arya had first come, there was mostly just a loaded puzzling silence between them that Jon just couldn’t work out. He at first thought it must be an understandably awkward silence, as the two of them barely knew each other. However, soon Jon began to notice frequent glares from Arya toward Gendry and he knew that there must be something more to it all. 

However, what he had thought to be a never-ending awkward silence was really just the two of them not talking after having fight after fight. After the primary awkwardness and annoyance between them had seeming settled, apparently they had kept bickering over smaller things.   
According to Gendry, their latest little fight had been over something as simple as showering. Gendry had almost been laughing when he had told Jon what had happen. 

“All I did was offer her the shower first,” Gendry had grunted out through laughter, “It was like I offered her a knife. Seriously is she always like that?” 

But Jon, although he had laughed along with his friend, was not surprised. He know Arya well and he knew that above all else she utterly hated being treated like some delicate flower, some little ladylike possession that had to be looked after. She liked to demand, not to be offered things. 

But that was the least of their fights. They continued and Arya seemed to become more and more volatile. 

All their little fights sounded stupid to Jon, so stupid that he just wanted to laugh in both of their faces whenever one of them recounted, usually through gritted teeth, what they were fighting about at that moment. But when his lips even started to lift into the breathiest of laughs, he would always find himself on the end of two glares so dark that it was like he felt a suddenly cold as a slight shadow of fear was cast over him. But Jon couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper than what they were fighting about rather than things like showering. 

After Arya had stormed into her room after one shouting match between them, Jon was finally able to drag what they had really been fighting about out of Gendry. 

“She wanted to go to soccer practise and then afterwards go to fencing,” Gendry told a stunned Jon through gritted teeth, “When I wouldn’t let her go, she promised she would just watch but then wouldn’t let me come to keep an eye on her. I could tell she is not the watching kind. She really shouldn’t be doing those sorts of things in her condition.” 

Jon was touched by Gendry’s sentiments, the fact that he seemed to care for Arya so much after knowing them all, Jon included, for so little time. 

But when Jon commented on this, Gendry just shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. 

“No child should pay for its parents mistakes or stupidity,” he said, shortly glancing at Arya who had finally emerged from her room due to hunger and was violently rifling through the fridge, probably still enraged about being barred from going to her activities. 

Jon smiled also looking at Arya as she finally found what she was looking for, standing up and beginning to eat what was left of the pasta that they had had last night for dinner. As she ate, she sub-consciously put her hand on her stomach and rubbed. 

Jon turned back to Gendry who was also watching the scene with a far away look in his eye. 

Jon clapped his shoulder. 

“You’ll make a good father then one day, mate,” he said amicably. 

A seemingly guilty look appeared in Gendry’s eyes that Jon was at a loss to interpret but his eyes quickly went blank and he smiled in thanks before slowly walking back into his room, saying there was something that he needed to do.

But although they got along for the most part, Arya and Gendry were both driven and stubborn and, as a result, they fought endlessly.   
The constant fighting between them was driving Jon to complete and utter distraction. Sure it was play fighting for the majority of time, but it was still loud and irritating when Jon was trying to study, or more specifically when Jon was trying to write his very long thesis after finally going back to university as he was finished his current military service. 

They would yell over anything and everything. Or more Arya would yell, Gendry taking it all until the end when he would calmly tell her off. They argued over who got the remote, which one of them got the shower first in the morning and even who got to sit where on the couch.   
Eventually, after about two days of the nonsense, Jon got so sick of it that he screamed at both of them. 

Both had the good grace to look ashamed, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this arrangement was even going to work. Maybe he had been too hasty in bringing Arya back here to stay. But where else was she meant to go? 

Although their father was now thankfully around once more, Arya’s mother had been silent. They had not talked to each other since the news broke. Arya had refused to call her out of her own pride. Jon could not blame her for her refusal to contact her mother especially as he had experience Catelyn Stark’s anger first hand. But he also knew that Arya was missing Catelyn, she was her mother after all. And if there was a time in any girls life that she needed her mother, it was most definitely when she was herself becoming a mother. 

However in spite of his uneasiness, Arya continued to stay with them. But it wasn’t until a night a while after Arya had been staying with them that he finally felt sure that what he had done had been the right thing. 

When Jon heard the door slam, he was surprised, not having been expecting anyone. Turning around from the table where he was situated doing some work, he saw Gendry coming in out of the cold, windblown and freezing, holding a bag of groceries in his hands. 

“Hey,” he said, half turning back to his work, “I didn’t realise that you went out.” 

“Yes, I did, just went down the road to get some things,” Gendry answered, “Still working on the thesis?” 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Jon said, visibly cringing, watching as Gendry unpacked it. 

The whole bag basically consisted of a few tubs of ice cream. 

Jon frowned in puzzlement. It was freezing, no sane person would want ice cream. 

Except Arya, he thought, recently she hadn’t been able to get enough ice cream in her. She had been craving it like crazy, barely leaving him alone for more than a half a second before bothering him about getting more or going out to get some herself. 

Glancing back at the tubs that Gendry was putting into the freezer, he saw the packaging. The realisation struck him like lightening as he realised that the ice cream was Arya’s favourite hazelnut ice cream, the one she had been craving like crazy. 

She was still in the shower at the moment, so he knew that Gendry must have thoughtfully anticipated what she would want when she got out. 

And in that moment, Jon knew that it would all work in the end. 

Gendry finished unpacking everything and slipped on to the couch, switching on the TV to some mindless sitcom to which he just zoned out, obviously resting before doing a job he had tonight. 

A couple of minutes later, Arya came out, still drying her hair with a big fluffy towel in one of his old shirts on and some black leggings. To no one’s surprise, she walked directly to the freezer.

She pulled it open, her eyes searching until they found what she wanted to her delight. She got the ice cream out of fridge, sighing in pleasure as she put two big scopes in a bowl before also heading to couch, flopping down next to Gendry to watch the show too. 

It was only then that Jon noticed it was one of Arya’s favourite shows. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The days wore on for Arya. She did about four things over and over again. She would go to class, eat, spend time with Gendry and Jon and go to sleep. It was a cycle that was just being repeated over and over again as the days went on. 

Out of all these relaxing activities, her favourite parts of each day were always spending time with Jon and Gendry. Or just Jon.   
Or, as Arya would not admit she preferred it, just Gendry. 

But unfortunately today, Gendry would be home late and she was sitting at the table with Jon, pretending to be studying while just staring intently at her computer, thinking about how boring economics was.

Time to stop doing this, she thought, her eyes flicking up to the next victim of her boredom. Jon. 

“Jon, I’m bored,” she whined at the first opportunity she had, “Let’s go out and do something, I can’t sit here any longer.” 

“Arya,” Jon said quietly, taking his glasses off his face and rubbing the sides of his head tiredly, “You have been sitting here for about 20 minutes.” 

“20 minutes too bloody long,” she muttered. 

Jon looked up at her, his weary eyes showing annoyance. 

“I know that you could have done whatever you are staring at already if you had actually just done it,” Jon said, looking back down at his computer. 

“Exactly,” she said cheekily, “So I’ll do it 20 minutes before it’s due. Now that that’s settled, can we go somewhere?”

“Fine,” he grunted out, “but only because I have made good progress unlike some people. Where is it that you want to go?” 

“I don’t know, why are you asking me?” she exclaimed, knowing how much this would annoy him, “Where do you want to go?” 

Jon put his head down, so that it was banging on the desk. 

“Seriously Arya,” he said, before seeing that she was biting her lips. To many, this meant nothing but to Jon, it was a sign that there was something that she wasn’t saying. 

“Arya, where do you want to go?” he asked patiently, watching her carefully to see if she would answer. 

“Well,” Arya began, “Sansa hasn’t been answering my phone calls, which is very strange but she’s probably just busy or avoiding me for some reason that I wouldn’t understand, you know how girls are, I mean…”

“Arya, would you please get on with it?” Jon said, his impatience increasing by the minute. 

But Arya continued, ignoring him without a hitch, only sparing a second to glare at him for interrupting her. 

“And my jeans, well they don’t really fit anymore and I refuse to start wearing bloody dresses and skirts, even though right now, they are about all that fits me properly. So I guess I was wondering if you would take me shopping for jeans?” she finished, looking at him with the question in her eyes.

“You want to go shopping?” Jon asked in disbelief, “Well I never thought this day would come, in fact, I actually thought hell and its fires would freeze over with the snows of Winterfell first… OW, BLOODY HELL ARYA.” 

Arya had slapped his straight across the back of the head as a door slammed somewhere. 

A rumble of a laugh came out from behind them as Gendry walked in, still dressed in his work clothes that were covered with grease, putting down his keys in the bowl on the kitchen counter. 

“What,” she said defensively looking at both of them, as they both stared at her, one in amused exacerbation while Jon looked completely affronted at receiving such a decisive slap, before looking down at her computer once again, swinging her leg in ease as she did, “I do not enjoy shopping and I don’t like people insinuating that I do. Don’t mock me and you won’t get any more slaps, Jon Snow.” 

Gendry laughed at that while Jon just looked down, grumbling to himself in annoyance. 

“What’s this about shopping?” Gendry inquired as he rifled through the fridge. 

“Don’t bother looking in there,” Jon said snippily, glancing at his sister, “Arya has already eaten everything.” 

Arya rolled her eyes. 

“Well,” she started, ignoring Jon in favour of answering Gendry’s question, “I asked if my least favourite brother here would take me shopping for new jeans but he wouldn’t do it.” 

Before Gendry could say anything, Jon spoke once again. 

“Speaking of your least favourite brother, have you spoken to Robb lately?” he asked her, worry laced through his voice, “because I haven’t in a while. He isn’t answering my calls either.” 

Arya threw her hands up in exacerbation. 

“God, are all of our siblings are missing?” Arya declared, “I better give Bran a call soon, check how he’s doing. But let’s be honest, it’s Rickon who is more likely to be in a bad way than good, little bookworm Brandon.” 

Jon snorted in agreement before turning his eyes back to his work. 

“It’s been a while since I have seen either one of them,” she said wistfully, before adding in a darker tone, “thanks to Mother dearest.” 

Both boys glanced at her, pitying her. 

“Don’t worry little sister, I mean it hasn’t been that long,” Jon comforted, looking back at her, “You’ll see them again soon, I mean especially now that Father and you are back on good terms. You know your mother doesn’t let him do anything alone.” 

Anything except you, she thought sadly, she does not make him do anything alone bar bastard children seemingly.

But in spite of her thoughts, Arya smiled and nodded at him in agreement.

For a second it seemed to quiet as the brother and sister duo quietened. Arya glanced back over to Gendry, whose presence had been forgotten by both of them. He was just standing there, eyes glued to the microwave as he began to heat up a bowl of day old pasta, a good-natured look on his face. 

“Well,” Arya said, looking back at her brother, “Are you going to come with me to the shops or not?” 

Jon grunted.

“Well that told me absolutely nothing,” Arya muttered, annoyance laced through her voice. 

“Well I’m going to go to the supermarket to do some food shopping as it seemed that we have no food,” Gendry interrupted them, watching as Jon glowered at Arya at the mention of the lack of food, “And I could probably go to the supermarket at the shops near Blackwater if you two want to come along and go looking for some jeans.” 

Jon rolled his eyes instantly, but Arya’s face seemed to light up the whole room as she gave Gendry such a big smile he stood still for a couple of seconds afterwards in what could have only been described as profound shock at the unnatural action. 

However the moment was over as soon as it had occurred as Arya hopped off her chair, running to Jon’s room to change into some proper clothes that didn’t consist of loose pants and Jon’s old band t-shirts. 

Once Arya was in Jon’s room, she looked through her case of messy clothes, throwing things around as she went.

Immediately she tried to pull on some shorts throwing on an old t-shirt on. 

Glancing at the mirror, she looked down at the shorts. 

“God, were they always that short?” she muttered to herself, looking down at them. 

But it wasn’t that the shorts were too short or even her shirts were too long. Instead, now she was getting thicker around the waist and all her things where starting not to fit, specifically her shorts were riding up. 

She quickly started sorting through her bag to see if she had any other clean clothes. But there was only one thing in there. 

“Of course, it’s a bloody dress,” she muttered in annoyance, “And one of Sansa’s at that.” 

But the dress was flowy and would fit her comfortably unlike her shorts, so she put it on, peering at herself in the mirror when she was dressed. 

The stupid thing did the only thing that Arya really cared about, it covered her whole stomach. So, not being the vain person her sister was, Arya ran back out into the room where the boys were, throwing on a pair of shoes as she went. 

When she emerged from the room again, both Jon and Gendry were waiting for her. Jon had his back to her and was chattering on about something that she could not be bothered focusing on. Gendry, however, leant on the kitchen bench, flicking his keys around and around while he listened, or from the looks of it, at least pretended to be listening what Jon was saying. With his profile toward her, Arya got a good look at him.

God, he is gorgeous, she thought as she stared at him reaching a hand out behind her pulling Jon’s door closed. 

Newly changed into a plain white t-shirt and jeans, Gendry did cut a striking figure. 

Causal but very handsome, Arya thought.

But Gendry turned toward her, giving her a half smile, half smirk as he noticed her, but then his mouth slackened slightly as his eyes roamed up and down her figure, his eyes crinkling on the edges slightly. 

On noticing his friend’s preoccupation, Jon spun around to face Arya too, before letting out a decisive snort. 

“You’re wearing a dress,” Jon stated, “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Really,” Arya questioned, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Well I never thought I’d see the day you got a girlfriend either. But shit happens.”

Jon ignored her. 

“But you never wear dresses?” Jon deadpanned once again. 

“Yes well, nothing else is clean and if it is clean, it doesn’t fucking fit,” Arya near shouted at him, causing Jon to stumble back slightly at the force of her frustration. 

“Alright,” he placated, looking irritated and terrified all at once, “let’s go before you kill my other and now only working ear drum.” 

With that Jon turned around and walked to the door to open it, grumbling even more the whole way. 

“Well,” Gendry said, alerting her to his presence once more, “I think you look nice.” 

“Please,” Arya scoffed, “I’m getting fat and just generally round. I look like a bloody snowflake in this white dress.” 

“A beautiful snowflake though,” he said thoughtfully, smiling as they began to follow Jon. 

Arya felt her face bloom with colour at that as Gendry gently ushered her out of the door. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Standing in front of the mirror had always been the place that Arya had least liked to be. While Sansa, when they had been younger, could easily waste hours standing in front of a mirror, doing her hair and makeup and just generally making sure she was always looking her best, Arya had always been the girl who got dressed in whatever was clean and literally glanced for a split second in the mirror to make sure she looked at least clean. But that was all she deemed a mirror good for. 

Therefore, standing in front of a mirror with a pair of what Arya deemed to be the ugliest jeans on the planet was not what she wanted to be doing with her Thursday afternoons. 

But here she was, staring at the awful stretchy pants that were barely clinging to her waist with Jon, and maybe Gendry, waiting outside the changing room impatiently for her to come out. 

She could forgive them for their impatience, she had been in here, staring at the mirror for almost half an hour. 

Arya would never have considered herself a vain person. She still didn’t think that she was especially vain. But these pants were just not made for people who wanted to look remotely attractive. They were baggy and did absolutely nothing for what Sansa always called her ‘toned to a tea’ legs. 

“Arya,” came Jon’s voice from outside, “What are you doing in there? Having the baby?”

Normally Arya would have scoffed, pushing Jon back into his place with a witty comeback. But this Arya said nothing, just ignoring him before letting out a wail. 

“Jon,” she wailed, “I look like a freak.” 

With that the curtain whipped open for a second as Jon slipped quietly inside. 

He looked her up and down. 

“You don’t look like a freak,” he said in reassurance, “I promise you.” 

“Yes I do,” Arya said with conviction. 

“Ok so a little,” Jon conceded with a grin. 

“Ah,” she said in frustration, “Where the hell is Sansa when she is needed? I am surprised she didn’t sense my need for her in a clothes shop. I thought she would have that sixth sense down.” 

Jon just shrugged his shoulder in uncertainty. 

“I don’t know,” he said, “and honestly, I’m getting a bit worried about her. I haven’t heard from her in a couple of days.” 

“Neither have I,” Arya agreed, “Since she ran out of my ultrasound appointment.” 

Jon sighed. 

“Yes that was mighty strange, wasn’t it?” he said. 

“I’ll say,” Arya said in agreement as she took off the ugly pants, “It was so odd. I mean Sansa was more excited for that damned appointment than I was.” 

“Hmm” was all that Jon said before going on, “Well, little sister, why don’t you just buy the pants and we will be off. I need to finish what I have allocated of my thesis for today.” 

Arya rolled her eyes as she pulled Sansa’s dress back over her head. 

“You know what, I think that I’m just going to wear a lot of big t-shirts with leggings,” she said, as she considered herself, “they are what I’m most comfortable in.”

Jon just nodded as he played with his phone distractedly. 

“Whatever you feel comfortable in Arya,” he said, humouring her. 

As they exited the change room, Arya’s eyes instantly searched the throng of people shopping for Gendry’s tall figure but he was nowhere to be seen. Rather Jon kept walking to the exit of the shop.

“Where’s Gendry?” she questioned. 

“Oh he just went to finish up some food shopping quickly,” Jon explained, “I said that we would meet him in the supermarket. I really have to contribute more now that you’re eating us out of house and home.” 

Arya let out a laugh, nodding in agreement as they made their way to the supermarket just up in front of them. 

Jon stopped out the front, scoping down to pick up a basket. 

“Do you need anything?” Jon said, looking at her inquiringly. 

“Nutella,” was the instant reply as they set off to find some. 

The supermarket seemed to open their minds up a range of possibilities of what they wanted to eat and momentarily, they had split up as they were running all over the store trying to find exactly what they each wanted. 

Although she had finally moved on from wanting ice cream, now Arya was wishing the ice cream phase would come back as chocolates of any kind seemed to be the running choice of all that she wanted. Particularly, nutella seemed to be a preference that she could have gone without.  
That was how Jon ended looking for his own favourite salted caramel flavoured chocolate while Arya scoured the confectionary isle for biggest tub of nutella that she could find. A large one that she had seen first had just not been good enough for her fancies. 

When she finally spotted the mega tub, Arya thought that she had never felt more joy well up in her heart than in that moment. 

I’m literally pathetic, she thought, don’t I have more important and less pathetic things to get so excited for. 

But despite her pitiful self-admitted excitement welling in her chest, Arya still ran, standing on the tips of her toes to try to reach the nutella on the top shelf. 

However, despite her excitement, standing on the very tips of her toes and the stretching of her body toward what she wanted, she could not reach the nutella jar. The familiar frustration at her own shortness began to form as she reached once more for the top shelf. 

I’m just too damn short, she thought, her annoyance growing as she realised that she may not get her big jar of nutella. 

Suddenly she felt the cold of a shadow being cast over her as someone else reached over her head for her jar of nutella. 

Arya turned around only to be handed the nutella jar by a grinning Gendry. 

“Sorry,” he said, a smirk growing even more on his face, “I would have lifted you up like last time, so you get the satisfaction of doing it yourself, but I thought better of it in your current state.” 

Arya looked up slyly at him. That was probably the first time one of them had so blatantly referenced that night. 

“I’m still not your stupid doll,” she said sulkily, looking back up as she considered how to prove that to him. 

“No,” he agreed, “You’re probably a lot heavier than a doll by now.” 

Arya gaped for a second at the insult before slapping Gendry straight across the arm, to which he just grinned.

“Yes well that’s your fault,” she told him as they continued walking down the isle, only to stop once more as Arya noticed some chocolate chip waffles that she wanted.

So again she reached up, this time getting a hold of them rather than not. As she was still on her tiptoes, she turned her head to look triumphantly at him. But Gendry eyes were no longer on her face, but rather glued to her stomach. 

“You know I swear there is a bump there when I look sometimes,” he said suddenly, his eyes flitting back up to her face before returning to their original place. 

“I do that too,” Arya admitted quietly, “But I think it’s just our imaginations. There is nothing there just yet.” 

Gendry nodded distractedly. 

“Yes, you’re probably right,” he agreed quickly, still looking down at her stomach. 

Gendry started moving his hand, as if to touch her stomach. But just as he was to touch her, he stopped as he realised what he was doing, as if he was remembering his manners.

Arya just looked at him, smiling slightly. She reached out and pulled one of his big hands into her own. 

“Don’t you know from last time that I don’t mind if you put your hand on my stomach,” she said softly to him, gently placing his hand on the lower part of her stomach, “It’s your child too.” 

Arya paused, allowing him to place his hand more comfortably on her stomach, gently feeling it. 

To Arya, it was an almost shocking sensation. She hadn’t been touched in so long, even in such an unsexual place, by someone male and not related to her. 

It wasn’t sexual caress in the least. It was rather a more intimate touch than could ever occur within the bounds of sex. It was a touch that bespoke of feelings, emotions yet to be discovered by someone as young as her. Caring and love. 

It was as if an electric current snapped Arya back into the present as she, being a bit too scared of the emotions coming to a head around her, began to babble. 

“I’m almost four months, a couple of weeks off it actually and most women start to show about then,” she said hurriedly, “I mean like I won’t be huge for a while yet but…” 

‘Have you been feeling movement still?” he interrupted, cutting her babbling off thankfully. 

“Yes bits and pieces,” she answered, looking up at him attentively, “mostly just this strange fluttering, I mean it could be anything really.”   
Gendry smiled down at her, looking into her eyes, his eyes shining.

“But it’s not just anything is it?” he said softly, smiling at her in appreciation. 

“No I guess, it’s not,” she said back softly. 

They stood there like that for what was in actual fact a second or two but what felt like a length of time, just appreciating the silence that had enveloped them. 

In that moment they were just them, two parents to be sharing a special moment. 

It’s nice, Arya thought as she looked up at Gendry and smiled, just the two of us without any of the pressure her dad or Jon brought.   
“Arya,” a voice came from behind them, shattering the bubble that had surrounded them for a time. 

Arya around Gendry’s shoulder, needing to stand on the very tips of her toes in order to see. Gendry also turned his head, looking directly behind at the person standing behind them. 

There in all his glory was Robert Baratheon, businessman extraordinaire and currently running for office. Or Uncle Robert to her since she was old enough to talk as he also happened to be her father’s best friend since they were naught but young boys at Eton. 

“Little wolf it is you, I knew it was. I could recognise that arse anywhere,” he called out again in his jovial, booming voice. 

Oh Gods, Arya thought in exacerbation, could this day get any bloody worse, I have to deal with a drunken Uncle Robert. 

“Well, that’s slightly perverted,” Gendry muttered to her, before a cheeky look entered his eyes, “Would you recognise his arse anywhere too?” 

Arya pushed him with her shoulder as violently as she could. She could sense the distinct snickering sounding through his voice. She was about to answer back angrily but the man had almost reached where her and Gendry were standing, his beady eyes focused greedily on her face. The face that he so often referred to as his long love, Lyanna. 

“Hello Uncle Robert,” she said, looking up at Robert Baratheon’s face, which was a dark, ruddy red as he finally reached her.

“It has been an age since I last saw you, girl,” he bellowed once more at her, leaning forward to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek, smelling so violently of bourbon that Arya wanted to throw up immediately, “How have you been girl?” 

Arya collected herself as he himself swayed away from her, giving him a cold, polite smile as she eyed him wearily. 

“I have been fine, very busy,” she said, disinterest laced through her voice as she unsubtly wiped her cheek of the spit, causing Gendry, who was standing just behind her, to snigger quietly, “What are you doing here?”

“Just grabbing some scotch for the road, my little Lya. I have just finished my bourbon unfortunately,” he said, looking at her greedily, “What about you? And who is this?” 

Robert’s glazed over eyes looked indirectly at Gendry. 

“Gendry Waters, sir” Gendry said, respectfully, holding out a hand. 

Arya snorted. 

Well that’s a lot more respect than he deserves, she thought in anger, stupid drunk, lecherous bastard that he is.   
Robert blindly reached forward, shaking Gendry’s hand merrily although a bit too rigorously for Arya’s liking. But Gendry handled it with grace, allowing Robert to pull on his arm 

Robert was drunk as usual, Arya could tell. He was always drunk. Nowadays, her father would be more concerned if he was sober than drunk. However, while Ned always ignored Robert’s tendency to be drunk eighteen hours of the day and hungover the subsequent six, Arya had absolutely no tolerance for it. It was disgusting and rude and had led Robert into some situations that he shouldn’t have been in. Such as when he had stumbled into her bathroom last year when she was in the shower, only to try and run into the shower with her, screaming ‘Lya’ in his loudest voice. Arya had thanks the Gods for her quickness of she may have gotten stuck underneath him when he had slipped on the rushing water, knocking himself clean out. It had taken her father, Robb and Jon to lift him with her running in front of them to open doors as they had struggled along to carry him to a bed where he could sleep off his drunken stupor. 

Arya had been absolutely mortified but had ignored it all for the sake of her father. 

But Arya snapped back into focus as Robert continued to talk unsteadily to Gendry, who was politely responding. 

“Ah Waters, a bastard then,” he said groggily, “No father to even give you a name. Robert Baratheon at your service. ” 

Arya could feel a flush of pure mortification rising in her cheeks at his words. Gendry just dropped his hand softly, nodding politely. He was probably used to getting such comments of disrespect but Arya felt the anger inside her rising to a specular finale. 

“Better a nameless bastard than a fat, old drunk,” she snapped back at him, her eyes sending him a sharp glare, “I really must be going. I have things to do. Goodbye Uncle Robert.” 

With that she grabbed Gendry’s hand and began pulling him quickly through the shops.

“Not so fast, little wolf,” Robert roared after her. 

But Arya did not listen, she just pulled Gendry further and further away, her anger still simmering just below the surface of her cool exterior.   
Who did that old prick think he was? To denounce someone so easily solely on the basis of their birth. Judge them so harshly over something that they had absolutely no control over. 

The topic of illegitimate children had always been a source of infuriation and irritation for her. It had always incited a deep fury within her. Formally, it was wholly for her brother’s benefit but no longer was this just about Jon. Now, Robert was not only criticising Gendry but her child too. Arya was almost shocked at the maternal instincts that seemed to surge through her at the idea of that. The idea of someone hurting the little bean shaped thing inside her. She was fuming on its behalf and she did not even know what it was and what it meant.   
However, as the space between them and Robert Baratheon got larger, Arya relaxed some before quickly glancing back at Gendry. He had been quiet as they made their escape and he still hadn’t said a thing as they walked towards where Gendry had said Jon was before all the drama that had occurred. 

“He was wrong to say that,” she murmured to him softly, “He shouldn’t of said that and it’s not true.”

“What’s not true?” Gendry said, suddenly looking up at her, “Everything he said was true. I am a bastard with no father. Don’t even have a proper last name.” 

He did not even look remotely anger. Arya felt that she looked angrier than he felt. Rather he looked completely resigned, like he was fine with everything that Robert had said, everything that Robert had meant. 

“The facts may all be true,” Arya conceded, “But there is nothing wrong with it all like he seemed to insinuate. A child having unmarried parents is nothing bad. I mean our kid will be like that. He’s just an arrogant fat old shit who is drunk too much and does not think about what is coming out of his mouth. Don’t worry about him.” 

He looked up, a small smile lingering on the edges of his lips as he looked at her.

He reached down and took her hand for a second, clutching it briefly. 

“Thanks Arya,” he said, gratefulness seeping into his voice before he dropped her hand as Jon came into view. 

Jon was lounging outside the bookshop with his phone up in front of him, looking disgruntled at having to wait so long. 

As they got closer to him, he glanced up, looking at both of them. 

“Oh, you ran into each other, did you?” he said, scrutinising them. 

“Yes we did,” Arya said brightly, “And now that we have everything, are we going to head home?” 

Jon sighed, pushing his hand through his hair, before nodding sulkily.

“What’s your problem?” Arya probed him with as they began to walk back towards where they had parked. 

“Nothing,” Jon said, “Its just that …”

He paused, thinking about what he wanted to say. 

“Just that…” Gendry prompted. 

“It was just that I met this super hot girl in the bookshop and we got talking. And when I asked her for her number she said maybe she’d give it to me if fate made our paths cross again or something like that,” he explained, “So I had been sitting there for a while in hopes of seeing her again. But I never saw her, even though I waited for ages.”

“Nice,” Gendry said, “But I guess it wasn’t meant to be...” 

“Fuck that,” Jon grumbled in a whiny voice, “I wanted to see her again…” 

“You didn’t let me finish,” Gendry interrupted him with a frown, “I was going to see, maybe it wasn’t meant to be today but it will be tomorrow.” 

“Or never,” Arya added in, looking mockingly at Jon. 

Jon glared at her, to which Arya just smiled smugly at him.

“Yes well at least I have prospects,” he snapped at Arya, who just looked complacent, “I don’t see you hooking up with anyone, I mean you won’t even tell me who the father of Baby Q here is.” 

Arya saw Gendry freeze out of the corner of her eye and knew that out of the two of them, she was the one who would have to act natural, cool and calm. 

“Baby Q?” she said breezily, trying to divert attention. 

“Baby question,” Jon said, “Or I meant question mark, but I couldn’t say baby QM, so baby Q. Felt fitting as I don’t seem to know anything about it.” 

“But it doesn’t make you love it any less though does it,” she said sweetly, knowing just how to play Jon.

Just as expected, his eyes softened. 

“Of course not,” he said softly, his bad mood obviously finished with for the time being as he looked at her lovingly. 

Arya smiled back, before they exited the shopping centre.

It doesn’t get a lot better than this, she thought. 

And just like that, fear hit her like a knife to the chest at the idea of it all changing soon. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days went past in a fast blur as the cycle of sleeping, eating and working once more took over. Days seemed to fly by and Arya could swear that she was getting fatter by the day when in actual fact Jon had told her that he couldn’t see any difference in her weight at all. But this comment simply infuriated her even more. 

“Are you saying that I was always this fat?” Arya had yelled when Jon had said his comment, which was meant to provide comfort rather than incite the wrath that she had felt at it. 

Jon yelped in fear at the tone of her voice, while Gendry sniggered. 

“No I wasn’t, I swear,” he had stuttered, looking at Gendry for support. 

“Don’t look at me,” Gendry said, flicking his eyes away from the brother and sister in front of him, “You walked right into that one mate. I am not saying anything.” 

“Why do you even care about this Arya?” Jon said to her, remarkably recovering some of his strength as he spoke, “The old Arya would have relished being able to get fat and longue around.” 

Arya stopped and thought at about that, much to Jon’s relief. 

Why do I care so much, she pondered? 

But she knew the answer as clearly as when she knew it was day and night. 

Because you want to look nice around Gendry, don’t you, a small voice spoke up from the back of her mind. 

“Well its because now I can’t go to fencing classes because its too dangerous,” she spat out at him in an attempt to find a different reason, “If I fall or something, well it could be hurt. I miss moving and exercising. Its how I release tension and anger. Now you’re my only outlet.” 

“What about some heavy weight training then? All you’ll need to do is hurl yourself up from the couch,” Jon proposed jokingly, his humour getting the better of him. 

That got him two slaps, once across his shoulder from Arya and one on the back of the head from Gendry, who very quickly inquired if he had a sudden death wish that he needed to know about.

However, apart from Arya’s sudden investment in vanity, she was the same old Arya. Blunt, sharp and fork tongued. She had always gravitated to being friends with boys over girls and could very easily get caught up for hours playing COD with Jon and Gendry.

The only difference was that when she would stop in the middle of the kitchen, put her hand of on her stomach and anyone who saw her knew that there was something there.

But apart from those newly acquired quirks, everything seemed relatively normal. 

But despite all the peace surrounding her for the moment, Arya just knew it would not hold. It was like she had a sixth sense that was warning her about the dangerous territory in which she treaded. Apart from her lack of communication with her Mother and, subsequently, her very stunted contact with her other siblings, her life seemed to be on the straight and narrow, if you ignored all the lying she was doing.   
But that all changed a cold morning about a week and a half after Arya had started living with the boys. 

Jon had left not long ago to go to meet with one of his professors leaving her and Gendry alone at home. 

They were both sitting on the couch, Arya flicking through the channels out of boredom while Gendry was typing on his lap top. 

Slowly Arya grew bored as she continually looked at the same channels to find the same dull shows on. She moved her head to look at Gendry who was staring rather intently down at the laptop that he was balancing carefully on his knees. Arya sighed as she rested an absent minded hand on her stomach. 

She tried to concentrate on the idiotic show that was playing on the television in front of her, but found that she had no patience for that today. She was restless. Now that Jon, Gendry and even her father, after having a little chat with Jon, had taken a firm stance on her not doing any of her usual activities or exercise like her fencing and kickboxing, she had so much restless energy floating around inside her just waiting to come out. She was jumpy and tense. And another walk wasn’t going to settle it. 

Just as Arya was beginning to dream up entertaining ways to annoy Gendry, she jumped. 

Gendry’s head whipped around to face her. But she just smiled at him. 

“Here,” she said excitedly, reaching out and tugging his hand to her stomach and pressing it there hard, “Can you feel it? Its light but it’s there. Do you feel it?” 

Gendry pressed his hand into her stomach, his face screwing up in a look of complete concentration as he tried to feel the movement of the child.

At first it seemed as though he had had no luck as his face had not changed as he gently held his hand to her stomach. 

But after a minute of shifting his hand about her lower stomach, a smile lit up his face as he seemed to finally feel what she felt. He let out a laugh as he pressed his stomach more firmly to her stomach to feel more movement. 

Gendry’s eyes flickered up to hers. There was joy swirling in their dark blue depths. Joy, happiness and a lot more emotion than Arya could fathom shone out of his eyes as he stared up at her. 

“I think that I felt it. Shit, there is actually something in there,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. 

Arya laughed, squeezing her hand next to his as she tried to feel the baby moving from the outside of her stomach. 

“Yes I suppose there is,” she agreed, smiling down at him as they locked eyes.

In that moment, Arya felt happiness gurgle up her throat, almost as if it would choke her. Gendry seemed to be experiencing the same sort of feeling judging from the look present in his eyes. 

They eyes remained focused on each other as they silently felt each others joy as they gazed at one another. But soon that joy changed as Arya felt Gendry gaze on her change in feeling. 

The look in his eyes darkened slightly from reverence and happiness to something more palpable, something that made her stomach do a quick flip as she looked directly back at him. 

Arya could feel the tension building around them like a match to a flame as they stayed that way for what was probably a second but felt like much longer. She could feel Gendry’s hand unconsciously slip from resting on her lower stomach to sliding down to the top of her thigh as he learnt slightly toward her, his eyes flickering down to glance at her lips. 

Anticipation and excitement crackled in the air around them as they moved closer toward each other. 

Just as Arya felt his nose graze hers gently, a door shot banged open behind them as someone entered the room. 

Arya and Gendry jumped apart as quickly as lightning, both their faces moving from being close to each other to being a more natural distance. Arya looked up quickly, glancing at Gendry who had already turned his head to see who had just come in the door before also turning to see who interrupted them.

Arya had assumed it would be Jon, so she turned her head with a smile, only for her mouth to drop open in surprise as she saw who was standing frozen at the front door, her hand still on the doorknob as she stared at the two of them sitting in such an intimate position on the couch. 

“Willow,” Gendry breathed from next to her. 

But the bigger surprise was still to come as the young waitress from Jeyne’s finally opened her mouth to speak.   
“Gendry, what’s going on?” the waitress said, her voice going up an octave.


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND I'M BACK!! hi guys, I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! it was actually half written for ages but I was a bit stuck on it! And I'm such a perfectionist that I couldn't put up some half baked shit, I wanted an actually half decent chapter for you all! So here it finally is!! Let me know what you think of it!! Also thank-you to the people who constant comment to remind me (especially you Jesus Christ, this one is for your recent birthday hahah)!! Gives me motivation that people are actually enjoying my story!!   
> Also wanted to mention and warn that there are sensitive subjects such as miscarriages mentioned in this chapter just in case anyone wants to avoid that sort of talk! I think it was necessary to mention for the flow but I understand some people are understandable sensitive to the topic!!   
> Thanks for reading SERIOUSLY!! I know that was a long arse break!   
> Happy New Year to all!!

Arya felt her smile instantly begin to fade off her face as she stared at the girl who had just entered Gendry’s apartment. 

What an unbelievably small fucking world, Arya thought as she looked at the waitress from Jeyne’s. 

As if this was all happening. As if she was now looking at the very same girl that she had only been talking to a few weeks ago. That girl had been so kind and warm, nothing like the girl in front of her now. The girl who was now glaring at her so hard Arya thought a lesser, more easily intimidated girl would have quickly cowered from the force of the expression plastered on her face. 

But Arya was no such girl. She was built of metal. She could withstand such disgust. She refused to cower under the daggered stare of a woman not that much older than her. 

So instead she simply moved slightly further away from Gendry, before settling into looking rather blankly between Gendry and Willow. It was a safe stance that would likely, although not certainly, keep her relatively out of the whole confrontation. Arya was a confrontational person certainly, but even she knew that this was not her battle to fight but Gendry’s and he needed to handle this without her interference. 

But despite her attempt to not look to closely at either party, both who were staring at each other in confusion, Arya could not help but peak at Gendry’s fiancé.   
She was pretty with long brown hair and big brown eyes that had been kind when she had first seen them but were now filled with rage. 

However, to her credit, Willow was not solely focused on staring angrily at Arya. Her gaze darted between glaring furiously at Arya for a couple of seconds to looking like she was pulsating with rage when she looked to Gendry. 

Well at least she’s not discriminatory, Arya thought reasonably in an effort to make light of the situation, or one of those ditzy girls that only goes after the girl her boyfriend cheated with rather than the boyfriend. 

But Arya could not think of anything could truly make this whole situation less uncomfortable than it was at that moment. 

So she elected to take the easiest route. She decided, very simply, to just let Gendry deal with it. Everything would be much easier that way. 

The surprised silence that permeated the atmosphere of the apartment did not last long as everything suddenly seemed to come to a head in a rapid succession.   
Gendry was the first of the pair to act, opening his mouth presumably to offer Willow an explanation of what was going on. But he seemed rather at a loss of what to say to her judging by the lack of speech that actually occurred after he had opened his mouth. 

However in spite of his inability to grasp at something to say, Willow did not seem to share that particular problem. She took a second, a look of absolutely shock passing over her face as she drank in the scene in front of her, before she collected herself. Willow closed her eyes for a millisecond, taking what Arya judged to be a deep breath, before her mouth opened and a stream of what Arya assumed to be Spanish obscenities came out. 

Arya had, of course, expected the yelling although the different language had been a surprise. 

She really couldn’t blame the girl for screaming. If she had a fiancé and he was snuggled up on a couch with some other girl that wasn’t biologically related to him, her jealous streak would not only flare up but it would probably take over all semblance of control over her actions. The results would probably be worse than what was happening right now. Her jealousy was much too potent to only scream. 

Willow hit a particular high note snapping Arya out of her thoughts. Her eyes flickered back and forth between Gendry and Willow, watching the scene unfolding before her eyes. 

It seemed to be a rather one-sided fight with Gendry merely standing where he had been in his place next to the couch, staring passively at Willow while she yelled.   
No it’s not completely passive, she thought offhandedly, there is a touch of guilt in his face too, guilt at being near me. 

The girl’s yelling was really quite impressive, Arya had to admit. Her hands were adept at flinging themselves about with an energy that bespoke of passionate anger.   
She very much reminded Arya of a line of fireworks that kept setting themselves off as Willow seemed to be able to get herself more and more fired up with each word she said. It was a rather bizarre sort of chain reaction with one instrument as the match and the flammable material. And Arya couldn’t help but feel that Willow spoke Spanish just to taunt her with the fact that she couldn’t understand a word that she was saying. 

Willow could easily be calling her a whore right in front of her and Arya would not have had the faintest clue.

With her mind distant, Arya almost jumped when Gendry, who had been particularly quiet up to this point, shouted something and began to yell back at Willow in the same language. His deep voice was filled with more emotion, notably anger, than Arya had ever heard in it. The deep notes of his voice penetrated through the room with a resounding resonance in contrast to Willow’s shrill shrieks. Arya had never heard him sound both so angry and so resigned. But then she had not heard him sound like much of anything other than calm, kind and occasionally flirtatious. Hell, she hadn’t even known that he spoke Spanish or any other language. 

Words were traded between them like lightning, so fast that Arya almost felt dizzy as her eyes moved back and forth between them as they continued arguing.   
When she tried to listen and understand, she would think she understood one thing only to be completely lost again a second later. The only words that she really understood were the multiple swear words used by both of them. 

Perhaps she’s cursing me to death, she wondered mildly, still attempting to understand Willow’s words, oh well I could so take her. 

Arya had been so trapped in the back and forth argument that it had taken Gendry a few snaps of her name to get her attention. 

“Sorry, what?” she asked, coming quickly out of her thoughts. 

Willow was instantly on her. 

“What’s wrong with her? Are you too stupid to be able to answer a question, puta?” she said scornfully. 

Gendry snapped something at Willow again and immediately they were back to fighting. 

That’s it, thought Arya, I don’t need to sit here and listen to this. 

“Look…. Ok could you both stop for one minute please,” Arya interrupted, struggling to stand up as quickly as she could. 

When she finally stood up, Arya braced herself to say something cutting to the both of them. 

“Now you’re both…” she began.

She looked to Willow to continue what she was saying but she stopped in her tracks as she saw the other girl’s face. She was no longer looking at her but rather staring at her stomach. It had grown rather large in her opinion. She was not big yet but when she wore tight tops, which the majority of her tops were becoming, it was noticeable. And the expression on Willow’s face, well it disorientated Arya immediately. Her eyes darkened until Arya could see only the shine in them that could only be tears. 

She looks totally crushed, Arya thought, her heart breaking slightly in despair for this girl who had been so kind to her all those weeks ago, she looks absolutely crushed. 

It was then that Arya remember her conversation with the girl in front of her. The smile that played on her lips when she had talked about her fiancé, the longing in her eyes for children of her own and the kindness that she had treated Arya with. 

No she would not be unkind to this girl, she could not be. It was not right and it was not fair. She would be kind, a lady of graciousness like Sansa would have been if she had been here.

Arya gently straightened, covering her stomach partially with her hands, almost to hide it in an effort to cause less pain to Willow. 

“Look I may not understand any Spanish, hopefully I got the language right, but I think right now you both need to calm down and more importantly sit down,” she said slowly. 

When the hell did I become the calming influence, she thought, finding the whole idea near laughable. 

Gendry immediately starting shifting where he was standing, almost like he was caught between doing what she said or staying where he was near Willow but he did eventually move over to the couch and take a seat on its arm. Willow however stayed where she was, her eyes remaining slightly lowered. She looked like she was deep in thought. 

She took a step forward before looking up once more. Her eyes were no longer burning like they had been not so long ago, rather they were now filled with unshed tears. 

Her eyes looked to Gendry, watching him intently as she began to speak. 

“She’s pregnant. Is she pregnant with your child?” she said, her voice steady although Arya could tell she was anything but internally.

It wasn’t a surprise to either of them that she would ask that but Gendry still paused at her question, his uncertainty written all over his face over what to answer. 

Arya could not blame him for his uncertainty. They were lying to so many people still that now it was becoming harder and harder to know when it was time to tell the truth. 

But despite neither having a confirmation or not, the silence in the room seemed to confirm what Willow had already suspected. A look of realisation passed like a shadow over her face and it began to crumble as she let out a sob before she walked over to the couch and collapsing onto it, her face screwed up into her hands. 

Gendry looked over at Arya with pure panic written all over his face. Arya could feel the panic was mirrored in her face as well. 

She gestured with her head to the girl still crying on the couch a few times. But Gendry seemed to be at a complete loss of what to do. 

Arya rolled her eyes at him, before gesturing toward her once more and mouthing ‘do something’ before adding ‘you git’ for good measure.

Gendry nodded unsurely but didn’t move immediately toward his crying fiancé. Instead, he edged toward her, sitting down next to her on the couch before beginning to talk in a low voice. 

“We weren’t together when this happen Willow, please don’t think that I would cheat on you,” he said in a low voice, before the tone changed to being somewhat pleading, “I would never do that to you, please believe me. Please. You know me better than that. I love you too much to put you through that.” 

The girl looked up at him immediately, her eyes burning. 

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t be fucking around and getting random girls pregnant,” she hissed at him, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this after everything that has happened these past few months.” 

Well she has a point there, Arya thought unhelpfully.

“We broke up for a time before I was on deployment, Willow,” Gendry said reasonably, “I slept with someone else. Probably not the best thing I could have done, but I can’t change it now querida. And now these are the consequences for my actions and I’m dealing with them now. If you don’t want to deal with everything, I understand…”

Willow let out another sob. 

“All I ever wanted was you…” she sobbed into her hands as Gendry watched on, his expression looking both unsure and devastated at the same time, “that’s all I wanted... now I don’t even get that.” 

From her spot on the couch, Arya began to feel more and more awkward just sitting there watching them, she had become a spectator to the inner workings of a relationship that she had not part in. 

So as they continued to talk, she slipped past the preoccupied couple, quietly walking around the couch, trying to quietly escape into Jon’s room or even outside.   
No, outside seems like a much better idea right now, she thought as she kept walking toward the front door of the apartment.   
But just before she opened it, a voice stopped her. 

“Arya,” Gendry called out, “Where are you going? I’m sorry, you don’t have to leave, we...” 

Arya turned her body around, while placing a hand behind her on the doorknob, beginning to twist gently. 

She looked up at the two other people in the room. Gendry was looking straight at her, leaning half of the couch he was on as if to chase her. He did not however get up, but rather settled for looking at her with a distracted expression.

Willow on the other hand was still sitting with an arm leaning on either leg, her head turned watching Arya leave. 

When their eyes met, Arya did not see the vulnerable girl that she had seen only a moment ago, sobbing in despair at the thought of her boyfriend cheating on her. No, this girl looked her up and down, her gaze stripping Arya bare and leaving her raw. It was a look that caused Arya to have a sudden flash back being teased for being ugly ‘Arya Horseface’. It was just pure mean girl cruelty. Willow may be sobbing at this moment but her glare said that she was anything but vulnerable.   
However just as quickly as Willow looked at her, she looked away, turning away from her, obviously waiting for her to leave, her face unseeable but presumably still sporting the unpleasant expression of disgust that had previously been there. 

“No, no its fine,” she said breezily, “You two obviously have a lot to discuss and it will be easier with me gone. Plus I said I was going to go and see Robb today, I promised him in fact, so I’ll go now and leave you to it.” 

Gendry nodded distractedly, frowning at her in concern. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” he said, smiling briefly although his eyes were full of apprehension most likely for the situation currently unfolding as well as having a hint of concern for her shining in them too. 

She nodded again. 

“Take care,” was all she said as she turned around, grabbing her coat, and escaping the apartment as quickly as she could. 

As soon as Arya shut the door, she instantly felt less tense. The atmosphere in that room had been intense to say the least. 

But her feeling of relaxation melted away when Willow’s voice rang across the room, thankfully in English this time so Arya was able to perfectly understand her.   
“What does she mean she’ll see you later?” she yelled, seeming to be once more inflamed. 

With that Arya set off, going as quickly as she could down the stairs of the apartment block and onto the road outside. The pavement outside was a welcome sight and Arya thanked whatever God was out there for every step she took away from that toxic apartment.

It had been a total lie that she was going to meet Robb. She hadn’t heard from that particular brother since her blow up with her mother. 

Spurred on by that thought, Arya let her feet take her to the bus on the corner that she knew stopped close to her father’s officers where Robb would be. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gendry didn’t think that life could get anymore strange than having to be there for a girl that you hardly knew because you were having a baby with her. 

But the Gods had seen fit to make him see that there was something a lot worse than that. Having said girl come and live with her brother and, by extension, you. And your girlfriend, after she finally got back from living with her parents due to her sister’s death, walking in on them sitting a bit too close on the couch and immediately breaking down at the first girls pregnancy. 

Now Arya had left him to deal with his own mess and he was at a complete loss of what to do. 

I really should be better at dealing with these sorts of emotional matters, he thought as he tried to calm his internal panic and slight dismay. 

Gendry could not deny that he had done the wrong thing. 

Sure in his mind, he and Willow were not together at that time and he would maintain that until the day he died. But he knew that perhaps it would have been better if he had waited a bit longer than a couple of days before jumping into bed with someone else.

And if it had been anyone else but Arya that walked into that club that night perhaps he would have waited longer. 

But he couldn’t deny that he had been attracted to Arya from the start and he would have done anything to sleep with her that night. The fact that he had been successful was dumb luck in his opinion.

But that was completely irrelevant at this point as he watched Willow try again and again to wipe away the continuous stream of tears sliding down her cheeks. 

He really wanted to say something comforting that would restore some semblance of peace between them but he was not naive as to think that any words could do that. He had done the wrong thing and now he had to face the consequences for his actions. 

“Willow…” he stuttered out, not knowing what else to say. 

She didn’t answer him. Didn’t even look at him. And to be totally honest, he didn’t blame her in the least. 

So they continued to sit in a loaded silence, both internally stewing in loathsome thoughts. 

Gendry was, to his credit, more concerned for Willow than he was for himself. This all had to be overwhelming to her. 

I mean it still all overwhelms me, he thought with conviction as he thought about the situation in its entirely; and I’ve been living it, her mind must be a complete mass of confusion. 

Gendry’s mind was split between two points.

One half of him was continuously reprimanding himself, asking himself why he hadn’t rang Willow and told her all of this a lot sooner. There would have been less confusion and hurt. Arya wouldn’t have bolted, leaving as fast as she could and Willow wouldn’t have been sitting here looking as distraught as she was right now.   
But the other half of him was rather relieved that she had found out accidently rather than him having to go through the motions of telling her. Gendry could stand and do a lot of things, but watching the light fade from Willow’s eyes and the hurt and disappointment creep in as he revealed what had occurred since she had been living with her father was definitely not something that he had looked forward to. 

Well you got your wish Waters, Gendry thought to himself grimly, you didn’t have to tell her in the end, well done. 

Gendry’s attention snapped once more back to Willow as a choked noise escaped her throat. 

He looked at her painfully, gently lifting his hand to place it on knee in an attempt to confront her. 

But rather than this action placating her tacitly, it stirred her immediately. 

“Why did you do this?” her voice said softly although quite firmly, “Why did this all have to happen?” 

The second question seemed to be more of a statement rather than a question posed directly to him, so he focused on answering her first question. 

“I didn’t mean to do this, Willow,” he said desperately, “It was one night, one stupid night. I mean, I thought we were broken up and I had just been told that I was being deployed once again. It sounds stupid but the whole thing wasn’t meant to be anything other than fun. It’s just had…” 

He paused, unsure how to continue. 

“Life long consequences,” she spat, interrupting him as she pushed herself up off the couch. 

Gendry didn’t know what to answer, but it didn’t seem to matter to Willow as she began to pace, huffing and muttering, although Gendry wasn’t sure if she was murmuring to him or to herself.

Gendry could only make out bits of what she was saying. All he really got from the whole exchange was that she was pissed. 

Suddenly she stopped and looked expectantly at him. 

“Well, what are we going to do about all this then?” she asked firmly.

Gendry did not know what to say to that, so he settled for looking at the woman standing in front of him with a confused expression. 

“Well,” she prompted impatiently. 

“What do you mean?” he question unsurely, “What are we going to do about what?” 

“Us, this…” her voice turned to one of slight disgust, “woman and her child?” 

Gendry immediately paused at her vicious tone, looking her over. He was disgusted by her entire demeanour. He sure as hell understood anger and abhorrence being directed at him and his part in the whole mess. But her tone was similarly directed at an innocent child? His innocence child. No, he wasn’t taking that shit.

“You mean my child?” Gendry snapped dryly, “Don’t forget that part Willow, its not just Arya’s child. Its mine too.”

Willow’s eyes changed at that. They seemed to turn from their business-like façade to glazing over with pain for a second. 

“Yes, I do mean that,” she said quietly “your child.”

With that her face crumpled and she collapsed on the table behind her once again. Her hands once again clutched her head as Willow let out a moan of distress.   
“You’re going to have a child,” she said, peering up at him through her fingers, “You’re going to have a baby.” 

She paused for second before mumbling through her fingers once more. 

“And it’s with someone else.” 

Her words were muffled but Gendry could still hear the pain behind them. 

And just like that a weight, one of guilt and self-reproach, hit him right in the chest. 

“I…” he started uncertainly.

“No, don’t speak just yet, just listen to me please,” she said, distress prevalent in her high pitched voice, “its true. You’re going to have a baby with some other girl. And sure, you may not even end up with her or anything like that, but nonetheless you’re going to enter a new stage in your life that I’m not going to part of… I should be having this kid, we should be.” 

She stopped for breath yet again.

Her face crumbled. 

“But I’m not,” she heaved, “Some stranger is and now…” 

Willow couldn’t even finish her sentence. 

“And now everything we have…” she blanched painfully as she stopped, “had together is about to be taken away.” 

Gendry blinked in confusion, opening his mouth to interrupt. But Willow continued before he could say a thing. 

“Or its going to all change at the very least,” she altered, looking at him meaningfully, “can you really deny that?” 

“No I can’t…” he croaked out before being once more cut off.

“And you …” she let out a sob, “You did cheat on me… do you not want to be with me? Do you want to be with that whore?” 

Gendry felt anger ripple through him. They almost seemed to be going in circles. Willow would get angry then sad and then angry again.  
He jumped up, looking at Willow straight in the eye as he spoke. 

“Say what you like about me, I actually deserve it, but don’t be cruel to Arya,” he spat at her, “she doesn’t deserve it.” 

Willow stood up quickly, facing him directly. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” she screeched, stamping a foot for emphasis, “She slept with my boyfriend while I was crying over my sister’s death with my parents. In my eyes, why shouldn’t she deserve the blame for all of this?”

Gendry felt his eyes widen as he gazed onto a woman that he no longer knew. 

Over their long relationship, there had always been plenty of things that Gendry had not liked in Willow. But spitefulness and cruelty had never been an issue between them. He had never seen such a side to her like he just had. He had seen it in plenty of other girls. But never Willow. She had been kind and sweet in an almost naive kind of way since he had first met her. It had been those qualities that had attracted him to her in the first place. 

He truly didn’t recognise this girl, this spiteful, cruel girl that stood in front of him, glaring at him with eyes that had such hatred in their depths.

“Willow,” he said softly, before raising his voice, “What the hell has happen to you? Why would you say this all? You’re never like this.” 

The girl watched him, listened to what he said before sweeping her eyes downwards to avoid his gaze.

She mumbled something that he couldn’t make out. 

“What?” he said, looking down at her in total confusion.

She stood up, looking him square in the eyes.

“Why is she even here?” she bit out, “Why is she in the house that we have been living in for all this time?” 

“She got kicked out by her parents and has been staying here with Jon and I,” Gendry said impatiently, standing up, “But don’t change the subject, why are you being like this?” 

“Who is Jon?” Willow shrieked, “Another girl you’ve knocked up?” 

Gendry felt his eyes begin to roll before pulling himself into check.

This is so not the time for scorn, he thought. 

“Just a guy who I met on deployment that needed a place to stay for a while,” Gendry said quickly before going back to his original question, “now answer my question, what’s wrong?” 

With that, a transformation seemed to occur before Gendry’s eyes as the cruel girl that Willow had been was slowly replaced by someone much more vulnerable. Her face fell as her body did and she ended up right back in the exact position that she had been before. 

She began to sob again, leaving them back in that remarkably uncomfortable position that they had only been in a short time ago. 

Gendry gently placed himself on the table in front of Willow, giving her the time she needed to begin to talk to him. 

He watched as she continued to sob, tears sinking into the grooves between her fingers before dribbling out only to wet her jean skirt. 

He leant forward to grasp her hands in comfort. But she pushed him away. 

“No don’t touch me,” she croaked out, “I don’t just blame her for this. This is your fault too.” 

With that, Willow continued to cry while he kept to himself. 

Slowly she got a better hold on herself as she attempted to stop the ceaseless stream of tears pouring out of her eyes. 

“You know this means that we can’t be together,” she gulped out, “or at least that kind of seems like what it means to me.” 

She paused, drinking in a gulp of air and letting out a few sobs to match. 

“I’m alone in the world. I have no one. My sister’s dead and gone. I’m no longer with my boyfriend and I have no friends and no where to live,” she took another, more hysterical breath, “I have absolutely nothing.” 

“That’s not true,” Gendry said gently, taking both her hands in his, “You still have me, Willow, together or not. I’m not going to kick you to the curb, regardless of how our relationship is. You must know that.”

He rubbed the side of her hand comfortingly as he spoke, trying his upmost to be as comforting as he could be.

“So you want to still try to be a couple?” she immediately put forward, a glimmer of hope entering her eyes behind the wall of tears, as she looked up at him, “You still want to be with me?” 

Gendry paused there.

He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to answer to that. 

The sensible part of him was rather encouraging him to reengage in his relationship with Willow. She was safe and comfortable and he had definitely loved her for a long time. She was beautiful and had been supportive of his military career throughout its entirety, even when he had been deployed for months at a time. She had stood by him. And he knew that in a perfect world, he should do the same.

But his mind was not wholly devoted to these virtuous thoughts. There were whisperings whirling around his head, infiltrating his thoughts. The loudest one was that this was not a good time to be going back into a relationship that could potentially detract from his attention being focused on Arya’s pregnancy and eventually, the baby. A child was not something that he could do part-time. Did it not need hundred precent of his focus from the start? And a relationship, particularly theirs, should not be done part-time either. 

However a rather softer whisper bespoke of much less practical concerns. A small voice in his mind was reminding him of Arya herself rather than just her pregnancy. A part of him liked her. A part of him wanted to know what would had happened had Willow come in 10 minutes later than she had. Or not at all. Arya was a possibility that he would not be able to explore if he stayed with Willow. He knew that he didn’t need to be with his child’s mother but in an ideal world it would be nice to be with her. To provide a child with a family rather than just the jumbled mess that they currently were. More than that, there were feelings, if they could even be called that, which bubbled below the surface when it came to Arya. He would be able to explore those feelings if he chose not to be with Willow. 

But Arya could turn into absolutely nothing, he thought. 

He brushed all thoughts out of his head with a quick shake, looking at the girl in front of him, who was still looking expectantly at him. 

“You still want to be with me?” he said reasonably, “After everything?” 

Willow considered his question for a moment. 

“There is no one else I would rather be with.” 

The look she gave him upon saying that had so much love in it. He could see it, even feel it. Yet he wasn’t sure that he could ever fully return it. 

But nevertheless, he sat there thoughtfully for a second before he answered. 

‘Why don’t we take it slow? See how everything turns out?” he put forward reasonably, “You can live here as everyone else seems to be doing these days and we can hang out and get to know each other again and we can just see where it all goes.” 

She looked slightly confused at the whole idea. 

“You don’t want us to be together completely?” she questioned, “Gendry, we were engaged? And now what? We’re dating again?”

“Not quite, but I have some things on my plate at the moment,” he said firmly, “this is the best compromise that I can offer right now?” 

She said nothing for a few seconds. 

“So what do you want to do?” he prompted her.

She looked up at him with a thoughtful expression before giving her answer. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

As Arya waited for the lift, tapping her foot impatiently, she felt a person slide up next to her. She peaked sidewards through the rim of her sunglasses to see a head of neatly curled blonde hair leaning over a phone. She looked away and then immediately looked back. The blonde headed girl by this time looked up at her, her already lively green eyes suddenly glowing anew. 

“Arya,” Myrcella near squealed, throwing her arms around her. 

“Cella,” Arya said, squeezing her arms around the girl in a similar fashion although a little less intensely. 

The ding of the elevator sounded and the girls were forced apart, only to enter the elevator together. 

“How are you?” Myrcella bubbled as she stood across from Arya, “And congratulations! I am so happy for you.” 

As she said this, she placed a soft hand on Arya’s slightly rounded stomach. 

“I am so very happy for you, Ar!” she repeated, looking up at the girl. 

Arya felt a smile cover her face at the girl’s enthusiasm.

“Thanks, I’m guessing Robb told you?” Arya said, smiling sheepishly at her. 

“Yes, he did. I hope that was okay?” Cella said, a look of concern crossing her face only to be lifted by Arya’s quick smile. 

“No, of course that’s fine, Cella. I would have eventually gotten around to telling you myself, I have just been a little busy lately. How is working with Robb going anyway?” Arya inquired before jokingly adding, “Has he made you come in a three in the morning so that you can get his printer to work after he broke it so he doesn’t get ink on his daintly, white fingers? He did that to Jon in college you know?” 

Myrcella’s face instantly formed a smile which then turned to a laugh. 

“No, not yet and its actually been great!” she gushed, “At first, when my father demanded that I take some time off studying to get some life skills and work experience and all that working somewhere other than in either of the family businesses, I thought he was raving mad. But your brother has been great and I am really enjoying myself for the time being.” 

“I’m glad, ‘Cella,” Arya said whole-heartedly, “And how’s Trystane? And my elder brother, I actually haven’t spoken to him in a while.”

Myrcella looked carefully at her, obviously carefully evaluating what she was about to say.

“Tyrstane’s well,” she said with a quiet smile, “But haven’t you spoken to Robb?” 

“No,” Arya huffed, looking quite put out, “He hasn’t been answering my calls, he only sent me a quick text a couple of days ago, saying that he was busy and he’d call me when he could. But he never did. I must saying I am feeling quite ignored.” 

Myrcella didn’t say anything, just looking at her carefully. 

“We have been busy,” she said slowly, “but he should be at his desk right now, so I’ll take you straight up there and you can go on in and have a chat with him.”   
“Thanks ‘Cella,” Arya said, gratitude seeping into her voice, as they stepped out of the elevator after reaching their floor, “That would be great.” 

They walked in sync to where Myrcella’s desk was located. 

Myrcella went forward and gently knocked on Robb’s door, gesturing for Arya to follow her closely. 

She opened the door and stuck her head in. 

Arya could vaguely hear Robb inquiring what she wanted. 

“I have a surprise visitor for you,” she heard Myrcella say before Arya found herself being hurled into Robb’s office. 

The first thing she registered was Robb’s surprised expression as he saw who his special guest was, an action that was closely followed by a tight frown descending on his brow. Arya heard a thud as the door was closed behind her, effectively trapping her, as Myrcella gave the pair of siblings their privacy. 

“Arya,” Robb said, standing up at his desk formally to see her better, although he did not come to give her a hug like he usually did.

Very odd, Arya thought in surprise. 

“Hey,” she said weakly.

Arya could feel a strange awkwardness whirling about in the air. She wanted to confidently stroll forward, sit in the seat opposite her brother, talk to him and tease him like she always did. 

However the stare that he had fixed her with when she had emerged from the outer office kept her standing awkwardly near the door.   
But Robb tried, she couldn’t say he didn’t. 

“Come and sit down,” he said feebly, gesturing to the seat in front of him. 

She came forward hesitantly, pulling out the chair to rest her hands on it. But she didn’t sit down immediately rather she stayed awkwardly behind the chair for a moment before pulling herself together. 

This is Robb, she told herself, pull it together Stark, he’s your elder brother, tell him off. 

Arya decided to take the most Arya-like approach. 

She looked Robb squarely in the eye and demanded to know what his problem was. 

Robb blinked, looking at her with a pained expression. 

“What?” he questioned, looking like he’d swallowed a nail, “nothing’s wrong.” 

“Robb, I can tell you have a problem so spit it out now or get over it,” she demanded, knowing her stare could be rather ferocious, especially when directed at a single person. 

Arya continued to stare steadily and angrily at him, but in seeing the shadow that crossed his face, she faltered in her glare. 

He looks so old, Arya thought as she watched Robb look away from her and begin to massage his temples.

Robb just kept sighing and rubbing his face before answering her. 

“Its nothing Arya,” he said, giving her a weak, tired smile.

She raised an eyebrow to acknowledge his reassurance, deciding for now at least, not to push him for answers and instead try a different approach.   
“Well then, would you like to get lunch? It has been a while since we caught up properly?” she posed innocently, looking shrewdly at her brother to see his reaction.   
Robb’s eyes seemed to darken. 

“I don’t know, Arya… I mean I have a lot of work and a meeting soon…” he said. 

Arya could feel herself slump before her anger sparked again. 

“I thought you didn’t have a problem?” she spat at him. 

Robb’s Adam apple bobbed uncertainly. 

“I don’t… I am just busy at work…” he struggled out. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Myrcella already told me that you were free for at least lunch,” she snapped, “She is your secretary and has access to your calendar, she would know.” 

He opened his mouth to say something but not much came out, he just seemed to murmur some sort of half-hearted excuse. 

Arya just stared at him as he squirmed and fell silent, not even looking at her.

All Arya really wanted to do what scream at him until he told her what was wrong. This whole pregnancy was making her super emotionally charged. 

But she reigned in this approach in favour of yet another one. 

If this doesn’t work, I go to plan A and I finally get to relieve some stress by screaming at Robb, she thought logically. 

“Robb, tell me what’s the matter?” she asked him calmly, “I’m Arya, your sister, you can tell me anything.” 

Robb’s eyes flickered up to look at her, and not for the first time could Arya see how tired they looked. There seemed to even be a bit of sadness tucked into his eyes as well. There was more going on here than she thought. She could just tell.

“Tell me,” she said softly, “Maybe I can help.” 

“Well unless you suddenly going to not be pregnant, there isn’t much you can do,” Robb said rudely, before he jumped up and began to pace behind his desk.   
Arya was taken aback. Where did that come from? 

Robb stopped pacing and looked up at her, his face troubled. 

“Jeyne… she keeps having miscarriage after miscarriage,” he began painfully, “The doctor said it would be a miracle for us to have a baby now.”

Arya felt her heart drop to her stomach as she listened, watching as Robb paused, rubbing his face tiredly. 

“She had another miscarriage only a couple weeks before we found out about you and your…” he couldn’t even say the word so he drawled over lamely, “so as you can probably imagine, it wasn’t the best time for your little announcement.” 

Arya felt at a loss for words. Out of everything she had expected him to be angry with her about, this hadn’t even entered her mind. 

She felt a mix of emotions. There was sympathy, empathy, sadness and even a little bit of guilt mixed in. 

Why should you feel guilty, a little voice at the back of her mind said, its not like you went and got knocked up to be spiteful. 

“I understand this is difficult for you, I really do and I’m sorry” Arya began, “But don’t freeze me out like that just because I’m having a baby and you’re not.” 

It may have been harsh but Arya felt like it was something she just had to say. 

“That’s not fair,” she added, looking and feeling hurt, “its not fair what you’re doing.”

“Yes I know it’s been…” Robb began.

“No, not that you and Jeyne can’t have children, although that’s awful but I meant that it wasn’t fair of you to do that,” Arya interrupted, “it wasn’t fair that you took that out on me.” 

Arya took a deep breath in to try to clear the guilt at what she was about to say. 

“Its not fair that you avoided me at a time when I really needed all the family that I could get, just because I am pregnant. I mean will you avoid all our siblings as they have children just because they can and you can’t,” Arya hissed out, “I think you’re just being selfish.” 

Robb’s fists slammed the table at that. 

“How dare you,” he seethed, glaring directly at his sister who, to her credit, did not back down, “You have no idea the pain and stress it is to lose a child, let alone more than one…” 

Robb would have continued if Arya had not interrupted him once more.

“Perhaps I do not,” Arya agreed, “and I truly am sorry for all that has happened, all the hardships that you have endured with all of this, I can only begin to even imagine. Honestly, I can't even imagine... and I hate myself for even saying this but I don’t agree that it gives you the right to ignore me like you have. As selfish as this sounds, this is the time I really need you Robb.” 

She paused, noticing Robb’s deflating stance. 

“And your niece or nephew needs you too,” she added for good measure. 

Silence took over as Robb considered her words. He looked up at her with a thoughtful expression. He seemed to be considering her words. 

Arya could feel the urge to apologise for her harshness and selfishness bubbling up in her throat. 

Perhaps she should not have said all of that, Robb was right, she had no idea what it was to lose a child. However, a small part of her was screaming that she needed her brother to be there; she needed her brother to listen now so she had said what she needed to. And an even smaller part was screaming at her that she was being even more selfish than him, demanding that he just ‘get over’ all the pain that surrounded a miscarriage. But in her eyes, Robb didn’t get to be like this, he wasn’t allowed to just never see her again because he was bitter at the fact she was having a baby and he wasn’t. 

Gods, I’m basically a big mess of emotions, she thought drily before her eyes darted back up to Robb. 

Robb gently placed his head in his hands before letting out a sigh. 

“You’re right,” he began softly, “Both Jeyne and I should not have blocked you out like that.” 

Arya snorted. 

“Well Jeyne’s efforts were no great loss…” 

“Arya,” Robb reprimanded, the hint of a smile coming over his face as their normal argument proceeded, “I know you don’t like her, but please desist in telling me how much you dislike her every time I say her name. Particularly when I say her name to her in your presence.” 

Arya just laughed, liking the hint of normalcy weaving its way through their tense conversation. It was a rather well known fact within the Stark family that Arya Stark did not approve of Jeyne Westering in any shape or form. Arya would not go so far as to say that she despised her brother’s wife but the kindest feeling that the girl had aroused in Arya’s heart was indifference and somewhat mild annoyance. 

On the surface Arya’s dislike of little Jeynie was perhaps due to the fact that Robb had married her out of duty rather than real love when she had been pregnant the first time. However, in her heart of hearts, Arya knew that, in part, her strong dislike of Jeyne stemmed from a feeling that Robb was being manipulated more than he should be by Jeyne and her family. More so her family than just Jeyne. Jeyne just happened to be the nearest person that Arya could take that out on. 

“Yes, she doesn’t seem to be particularly fond of me at all,” Arya giggled in agreement.

“She doesn’t not like you Arya…”Robb started, searching for something to add. 

“Robb I really don’t care if she doesn’t like me,” Arya asserted quickly before her voice softened, “As long as we always have a good relationship, I really do not mind how little Jeynie feels about me.” 

Robb gave her a weak smile. 

“Are we ok Arya?” he asked, worry laced through his voice. 

Arya smiled softly back at him. 

“We will be, brother, we will be.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cersei Lannister had been relaxing in front of the fire on her third glass of port when her husband had finally stumbled in from God knows where. He was big, lumbering and stunk of his usual bourbon, cheap cigarettes and even cheaper girls. 

But they had been married so long, it no longer startled or appalled her when Robert did this. Rather she would have been more than mildly surprised if he hadn’t come in past 2 in the morning with lipstick stains on his collar. 

He fell into the longue opposite her, giving her a brief glazed over look. Cersei just sipped more wine, hoping that he’d either quickly fall asleep or lumber off into the nearest bed to sleep the drunkenness off. 

But Robert did neither, remaining where he was. 

“Cersei,” he suddenly yelled. 

Cersei rolled her eyes, glancing disdainfully at him in answer to her name. 

“What are you doing here?” he murmured. 

Cersei rolled her eyes again. 

“I live here, Robert,” she drawled, “Don’t ask stupid questions.” 

“Sorry I thought you’d be off on your knees somewhere with a cock in between your wormy lips like the whore you are,” he stuttered out, beginning to laugh at his own joke. 

Cersei just looked away uncaringly, again looking deep into the fire. This is what Robert always did when he was in his current inebriated state. He was a mean drunk with a sloppy, cruel tongue that may have hurt a Cersei from 25 years ago but now just mildly irritated her like an annoying itch. 

“Go to bed, Robert,” she said in a bored, inattentive voice. 

The man next to her let out a bellow of laughter, struggling to sit up to face her. The struggle was considerable in light of the huge girth that surrounded his waist. It would have almost been comedic to watch if it didn’t annoy her.

“You cannot tell me what to do,” he bellowed, “What even are you to me, woman? Oh that’s right, my loving wife.” 

Cersei snorted at that. 

“That’s right, love,” he said, “You’re about as loving and good as a uncorked bottle of stale wine that I would throw straight out.” 

“And you’re about as clever and witty as the fat that clings to your huge waist,” she retorted without blinking, taking a long sip of wine afterward. 

Robert let out a huff of gruff laughter, before looking at the fire in a surprisingly contemplative manner. 

“What good has come out of us, Cersei, I mean really, what good?” Robert said, emotion bubbling up in the depths of his voice. 

Cersei rolled her eyes. 

Robert tended to go through stages when he was drunk and although she did now ignore them, she knew them and their order well enough after almost 30 years of marriage. First he’d be rude and often aggressive, and then he would become emotional and sentimental. Soon he would fall asleep and be out of her hair once she got the butler and some of the houseboys to carry him to his study so he would be well away from her. It was a frequent routine that occurred in their household. 

But she would let him get his sobbing out of the way before she would get him to move. Fighting against a drunken Robert never ended well for anyone. 

“I have lost my youth, Cersei, all my good looks and youth,” he bellowed sadly, “I used to be every girls fantasy. And today when I saw Renly, I thought why can’t I once again be the better-looking brother once again. He’s a younger, less stupid me.” 

At Renly’s name, Cersei’s ears perked up. She could never resist a moment to correct him. 

“You could not have seen Renly today,” she corrected him in a haughty manner, “He is in Bravoss for a couple of months with that Tyrell boy he likes to mess around with so much.” 

Robert paused his moving to think about it. 

“You’re going mad and senile, old man,” she taunted, “soon you’ll need to be reminded where to stick your tiny penis.” 

“That I’ll never need to know that with others. With you, I need to be careful lest your cunt bites my organ off,” Robert roared but then he settled again, obviously thinking, “But I saw Ren… wait, no it was Genny, no, Gendry, that’s it, Gendry. Could have been my second self.” 

Cersei’s head snapped up at the mention of that name. 

Robert went on, bemoaning his lost youth and what not but Cersei was no longer listening. She had felt her heart and body freeze at the mention of that name. It sent ice shards through her veins. 

She snapped back to attention as Robert let out a howl of despair at something that she had not bothered to listen to. 

“Wait go backwards, what did you say?” she growled out at her graceless husband. 

But Robert Baratheon was barely awake and definitely not listening to her. 

On seeing that she was not being heard, Cersei marched over to Robert, slapping him hard to get him to wake up before shaking him as much as she could, seeing his multiple chins wobbling at the mute force being exuded from her hands. 

“What, what?” he said with his eyes half closed, his awful breath floating on to her face as he talked. 

“Who is Gendry? Where did you see him?” she hissed.

“The boy with Lya at the supermarket,” he drowsily spluttered out before passing out once more into a deep slumber. 

She would get no more out of his tonight, she thought as she watched the fat oaf sleep. And he would most likely not remember anything in the morning. 

Cersei walked slowly toward the door of the room, grabbing her dangerously low filled glass of wine as she went past it. 

Could it be him, she pondered, her brain not functioning properly as she called from the help to move her lout of a husband to somewhere more convenient place in the house

No it couldn’t be... 

She shivered 

She fell on her bed, nursing the wine straight so not a precious drop escaped the glass, contemplating what she had just found out as she stared up at the tall ceiling before her.

No, it can’t be, she thought as her mind grew foggier and she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think!!


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS!! Another chapter up for you all!! My goal is to get another up by next Sunday (Easter Sunday!!), as the next chapter is half written, and I also want to put up a one-shot I have been working on for months so keep an eye open for that! Would really appreciate feedback on this particular chapter! I'm happy with it now but it took a lot of tweaking to get it here! Thanks for reading, my love and enjoy!!

Looking at the four walls of her bedroom that surrounded her, Sansa felt that they were the most loathsome sight that she had beheld in her short life. 

She was sick of staring at them, sick of being trapped in by then and even sicker of not having the strength to leave them. 

She viewed this room, those walls, as her personal prison yet she knew that she was her own prison guard. All she really wanted to do right now was break out of this entire funk, both the room and the self-imposed sentence. 

Sansa had gone from bad to better to worse all in the time frame of a few days. 

A few hellish days, she thought. 

Ever since she had ran out of her sister’s appointment, her mind had been in complete and utter turmoil. Her mind was twisted in so many directions, tangled with so many feelings, that she didn’t even know what she felt right now. 

Her mind was in part occupied with worry about her little sister. She was worried about how much that she would have upset Arya by firstly abandoning her at a doctors appointment that she had insisted on and then through her subsequent self-imposed isolation in which she avoided all family member but specifically her sister. 

Arya had frequently called her since Monday and texted when calling hadn’t worked. The guilt of leaving her sister like she had was one of the worse factors that Sansa had had to contend with, it had been plaguing her with gnawing anxiety. 

She was the elder sister, she was meant to be strong, supposed to always be capable of looking after her younger siblings. But she had not been strong this week. No instead, she had let herself crawl up in a ball and cry for hours. 

No, I haven’t been strong at all, she thought.

And the worse part of all this was that in spite of knowing that she needed to be strong, that she needed to pull herself together, she still couldn’t bring herself to call Arya back or go into the outside world. Instead here she was, focused solely on herself and wallowing deep in her own self-pity. 

Sansa felt completely alone. She really couldn’t bring herself to move past her problem on her own yet she also felt like she couldn’t talk about it with anyone either.  
At least, there was that helpful night with M… 

NO, she internally shrieked at herself, don’t even say that name, don’t even think it. 

No, she wouldn’t let herself even think about that night where she had fallen back into old and very unseemly habits, where she had allowed herself to fall prey to her base instincts and it had felt so…

Sansa hurled herself up and out of her bed, straightening up and beginning to pace around her room. It was a rather poor attempt to distract herself away from her current train of thought.

But at least it gets me up and out of bed, she thought reasonably as she continued to pace with purpose. 

Sansa quickly tried to focus on all the subject that could render her mind more blank that it was right now. She tried to think about walking, how she would have liked to have gone for a jog on the beach but would settle for a walk closer to sunset. Then she tried to think about calling Marg up tonight to suggest a shopping trip for tomorrow.

That slowly led her to thinking about Margaery and her most recent and most scandalous stories from a recent party that only the best of best had attended. 

Slowly her mind let itself temporarily unhinge itself, it began to relax and refocus. She stopped considering the issues at hand, as her mind allowed itself to drift into a more pleasant state of distraction. She thought about the drapes in her room that she had wanted to change for a while and book on her bedside table that she needed to start. She even thought about her prat of an ex-boyfriend, Joffrey Baratheon for a mere second. 

And it all worked for a time. Sansa was able to work herself into a blissful state of blankness until her entire feat unravelled as she turned in her pacing. As she turned in the direction of her bathroom, Sansa’s eyes alighted on the open bathroom door through which Arya’s room peaked through on the other side. 

With that, her brain instantly snapped back to its previous subject, as all the issues that she had been considering flooding back to the forefront of her mind. 

Sansa felt her world buckle slightly, or was it her legs? She couldn’t even tell anymore. Sansa let herself fall backwards onto her bed as despair overtook her once more and she let out a big sob. 

As much as her entire crisis weighed on her, her first few immediate sobs were all for Arya, all were filled with despair at her own treatment of her little sister. 

I should be… I want to be happy for my sister and eager to help her like I first was, she thought through the sobs that crowded up her mind, I shouldn’t be unable to see her just because the envy bubbling in my stomach becomes too much for me to handle when I do. 

A door slammed somewhere in the preciously empty house so Sansa quietened her loud sobs and began to pull at the blankets on her bed so that they covered her entire body, muting the sounds coming from her. A heat enveloped her as the stickiness of her tears and her breath intermingled while she tried to mop up her tears with the blanket that covered her. 

A voice resounded through the house, her name being called from somewhere but she ignored it in favour of crawling even more further under the covers of her bed to hide her tears from whoever would probably come marching upstairs within a couple of minutes. 

Sansa’s heaving chest slowed as she consciously tried to stop the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want any body seeing her like this. It would bring up questions of why she was so distraught. And right now if anyone, no matter how remote the relation was, asked her what was wrong, Sansa just knew that she would crack and then every little thing that she was upset about would spill from her lips, unable to stay in.

She wasn’t quite ready for everyone in her family to know about everything. Only her father knew, and she intended to keep it that way, at least for a little bit longer. 

That and she really didn’t want Arya to know. Sansa knew how Arya would react. She wouldn’t say much at first; rather she would be more contemplative, painfully aware. 

But internally, she would be guilt-ridden. She would feel bad about everything. She would feel bad that she could have children. She would feel terrible that she was currently having a child. They would grieve together in their own way until Arya fiercely vowed her support and then she would probably try to pawn more baby things onto Sansa. Then she would ask how it all happen and would most likely become rather angry and would then go on to most likely try and track down Joffrey and kill the little shit. She did not need little Arya going down that path right now. 

Sansa let out a teary laugh at that thought. That was so something Arya would do, the whole little scenario that Sansa had come up with was so all Arya. 

Gods I need to talk to her, she thought, no I need to see her. 

Most of her really wanted to be around Arya right now. Primarily to apologise for ignoring her for the past few days. But now Sansa was past even that, now she wanted to call her and ask how the ultrasound went after she had left and just how she had been generally since it. She just wanted to speak her little sister. 

However in spite of her desire to call, she hadn’t. She had merely remained where she was, stuck in a perpetual state of fear and a whirlwind of other emotions. She found nowadays that she was often stuck in that sort of state. 

Much too often, she thought, I need to get out of this. 

But ‘twas a statement easier made than done and Sansa made no move yet to make a break from the fear keeping her bound and gagged. 

Sansa almost jumped when felt a weight settle itself near her hip joint and a hand rest itself on her blanket covered shoulder. The hand didn’t stay still for long as it moved up to the edge of the coverlet and began to pull it down despite the resistance it met. 

“What do you want?” Sansa barked out in annoyance, not knowing who exactly was interrupting her but assuming it was one of her numerous and too nosy siblings or her even nosier mother.

There really are too many of us, she thought, they really should have stopped after Arya. 

“Sansa what are you doing in bed this early?” the quiet voice of Ned Stark said, clearly reaching her even through the bedspread. 

Sansa stilled. 

She hadn’t thought it would be her father that had come into her room. She had thought perhaps her mother or even Robb but not her father and now she had been rude to him. She was never ever rude to him. 

But more than that, after that night at the hospital after the Joffrey incident, Sansa hated being vulnerable with anyone, including her family. She did not want her father seeing her in such a state, a state where she was absolutely unrecognisable in her mixed emotions. 

But her half-hearted pulling was no match for her father’s quiet sense as he pulled down the doona. A rush of cold air hit her face, making the wetness of the tears begin to be even more sticky. 

Sansa quickly began to wipe away any of the residue that was left of her tears, heavily sniffing to try to dispel any more tears that could come dripping down her face.  
“Sansa,” her father’s voice said as gentle hand turned her around to face him. 

It took a second before Sansa was able to even look up at her father. But slowly she raised her eyes up to look at him, his grey eyes staring back at her filled with concern.  
“What is wrong, my child?” Ned said softly, looking at her with such love and compassion. 

“Nothing, just sometimes I get a bit weepy for no reason in particular,” Sansa sniffed immediately, looking at her father carefully before dropping her eyes back to where she was no longer looking at him directly, “Just hormones and all that...” 

Ned Stark was quiet for a moment. 

“Something is obviously wrong,” he said gently, “I am here to listen.” 

Sansa eyes flicked between her hands and her father. 

I cannot tell him all of the truth but I’ll tell him enough, she decided. 

“I guess,” she hiccupped, “I guess that its just that with Arya and the baby… and well my own circumstances… and I haven’t been able to talk to Arya… and I feel really guilty but its just so hard to even see her… especially since she’s getting bigger and its so obvious… and I am just in a bad space and….” 

Throughout her short speech Sansa had been hiccupping, but by the end she was crying in earnest. She let out a big sob, bringing her feet up so that they were tucked underneath her. 

She felt her father’s arms wrap around her and brought her into his chest. At first she resisted for a second, but within a second Sansa was clinging to his chest, sobbing her heart out. 

Sansa tried to explain, trying to, at the very least, sob out further explanation of her tears in between heaves. But in the end, her father just pulled her more firmly against him. He whispered for her to just take her time crying and talk when she was ready. 

Sansa was more grateful for that than she had been for a lot of the things in her life. So she let herself cry. 

She let herself cry for the children she would never have, the self-pity she would probably always have to endure from others and herself for the rest of her life. She cried for all the other things that she could never change. Everything, she just let it all out. She allowed herself this moment of complete weakness with her father as he swayed her side to side in comfort.

Slowly her sobs subsided into dry heaves and Sansa could feel the heat and stickiness of the mixture of her tears and her sharp breaths on her face. Slowly she peeled herself off of her father’s chest, looking up at his concerned face.

“Sansa…” he began. 

“Just wait,” she said weakly, “Let me just wash my face and then we will talk.” 

With that she extracted herself from his arms and trudged over to the bathroom, seeking to escape her father’s anxious gaze for a few minutes.

Sansa stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. The girl staring back at her looked to be a complete mess so foreign from her usual neat appearance. The only other time she had looked like this was after Joffrey and her’s little incident. The only different then had been that rather than tears covering her face, a mixture of bruises and blood had so heavily littered her face that she had been unrecognisable. But for once Sansa couldn’t bring herself to care about how she looked right now. Her face was blotchy and red just like her eyes and she looked like she hadn’t washed for days. But the worse thing was the sadness in her eyes. It shone out of them. 

Sansa quickly averted her eyes from her reflection, splashing her face with water and rearranging her horrendous hair by combing it through with her fingers as her thoughts began to drift off into nothingness. However the knock at the door and the call of her name by her father prompted her straight out of her mind and back into the present.  
She went to the door, opening it shyly to see him standing outside it, looking worried. 

“Sorry Sansa, I know you probably needed some time but I was just worried…” he began, looking extremely apologetic for interrupting her. 

“No its fine Dad,” she said, “I was coming out anyway. It’s not like you have to have an excuse to be worried about your own daughter.” 

She let out a shaky laugh, giving him a small but real smile before following him back to her bed where they both sat down. 

Ned looked her up and down carefully, taking everything in. 

Her father had always been a quiet man. Many people had thought him arrogance or dull, but Sansa, like the rest of their family, never thought of his silent nature that way. For what he lacks in conversation, she thought as she watched him watch her, he always makes up with observation and kindness. His expression was not judgemental, it was loving and kind. 

Sansa felt her hard exterior crack a little. 

“What’s going on Sansa?” he posed finally, looking at her with eyes that she knew she could never lie to. 

“Look Dad it’s nothing too drastic, I really am being overdramatic,” she began, before lapsing into a brief silence and then continuing. 

“It has just been hard with Arya being…” she paused painfully, “Pregnant. I guess its…” 

She stopped once more, as the words were too difficult to get out. 

“It has made you understand what you could unfortunately miss out on…” her father finished for her quietly. 

Sansa nodded softly, picking at her tassel on her lacy pink bed sheet. 

“Yes its bringing up things for me that I am trying to deal with,” Sansa said, “Its just now I look at Arya and I see what I want and its made her near impossible to be around without me becoming jealous and bitter. And it’s just making me so unhappy.” 

Sansa knew she must have looked absolutely miserable.

“Sansa you could still have children…” Ned began. 

“Dad, you know more than anyone else that it is not on the cards for me. It is barely even a possibility for me to get pregnant,” she interrupted negatively, “As much as I would like to think that I could have all of that, I have to be realistic. Arya is going to be the closest I ever get to a pregnancy.” 

“You’re missing my point,” Ned said sternly once she finished her sentence, “I said you could have children. Perhaps you may not be able to have them normally but you will still have them. It doesn’t take a pregnancy to love a child. It doesn’t even take a pregnancy to have a child these days. And honestly the pregnancy is the least important part. You will have your turn…” 

He drew off as Sansa watched him. 

“But it’s your sister’s turn now and I think you know that you need to be supportive of her at the moment. For both her and you,” he said finally, before getting up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and leaving her to contemplate what he said. 

***************************************************

Stepping out of Robb’s office had almost felt like a rebirth for Arya. It felt like a new start of sorts, a do over. She felt lighter, revitalised. Almost like all her struggles were slowly sinking away. She loved her family deeply and she had struggled much more than she had wanted to admit when it felt like half of them weren’t talking to her. Her heart had yearned to be back on good terms with them. And now she was. 

Her heart felt lighter. She felt much happier than she could even begin to explain. 

Now its just Mum, she thought to herself, her stomach dropping as she thought of her mother. 

Another result of her talk with Robb was the intense yearning to patch up things with her mother. It was becoming unbearably strong.

She missed her and all that came with her. She missed her little brothers. She missed the family occasions when they were all together. She missed Nymeria, she hadn’t seen her puppy in what seemed like years but was in fact a couple of weeks. But most of all, she just missed her mother. 

Arya couldn’t even begin to describe how much she missed her mother. She yearned for her mother’s warmth, her love and her good cooking. She would have even settled her mother’s kind censure at this moment just to be around her and everyone else. God knew she endured it enough times to be completely comfortable in a scowling Lady Catelyn’s presence. 

But in spite of their differences, there were a few particular traits that Arya had most definitely inherited from her mother, pride and a stubborn temperament. Both were stubborn and prideful, unwilling to make the first move even when they knew that they had done wrong. Lady Catelyn Stark always demanded apologies rather than giving them and to say that Arya was ever apologetic was just plainly and simply a lie. 

Even now in her desperate state, Arya was still more than mildly stubborn. She was not sure if she was willing to make the first move regardless of if a move on her part got her back into her mother’s good graces, and therefore by extension, back in the fold of the Stark family. 

So rather than go down the unnecessary and painful route that seeking out Catelyn would be, she decided to settle the yearning that was slightly easier and just as close to her heart, Nymeria. 

She’d go and see Nymeria at the place her family had rented just outside the city for all the dogs to staying while her family was down in King’s Landing and hope to God either her mother wasn’t there or if she was, she would make the first move and talk to her first. 

So that was how Arya ended up standing outside the compound, searching for a way to jump the fence into the small property that her father had acquired to house their numerous dogs. She hadn’t really thought everything through. She had completely disregarded the fact that the compound was usually locked and that she was without a key.  
And what was worse was that she could hear Nymeria barking in the distance but had absolutely no idea how to get to her. Everything was locked pretty tight. And no one was here with a key as per usual as they all hung in the kitchen of the room they had bought at the hotel. 

Gods Arya you really should have thought this through more than you did, Arya reprimanded herself. 

Nymeria let out a particular sad yelp and Arya felt her heart turn inside out at the sound. 

“I’m coming Nym,” she shouted out, before beginning to look for a way to pry open the lock. 

Normally she would have just climbed over the fence but she quickly decided that that wasn’t the ideal thing to do right now. So Arya settled for pulling at the lock then when that didn’t work, she reached into her bag for her own keys and trying to force one of the multiple keys into the lock of the door out of frustration. 

She was almost growling but the time she heard a throat clearing from behind her. 

Arya stiffened slightly. She was in the worst position possible, hunched over the lock of the compound, growling at the lock. She turned her head around to see who was behind her, having a small inclination of exactly who it was. 

And she was right.

Standing there in all the glory was Catelyn Stark, eying her younger daughter with a mixture of exasperation and slight aggravation.

Arya wanted to turn around but she didn’t know if she wanted to. She didn’t know what her mother was going to say or do. Hell she didn’t know what she was going to do.  
So she straightened up and turned around again, taking her partially squished in key out of the small lock that it had barely fit in to. 

“I was just coming to see Nymeria,” she said formerly, “I’ll leave now.” 

She pulled out her key huffily, sweeping around to face her mother, planning to walk out dramatically before she was stopped by the voice that she had beene missing so much. 

“Don’t be all huffy. You can stay, I’ll let you in,” her mother said drily, walking around her and unlocking the gate. 

Arya watched her mother with a dry expression, almost as if she was trying to figure out her motives. Her angle. 

But her mother merely ignored her speculative look, unlocking the gate with ease and holding it open behind her after she walked in. 

The pair watched each other in an almost suspicious manner for a second. Arya particularly had her eyes narrowed at her mother’s generous feat of holding the gate open for her. 

After a couple of seconds of staring, Catelyn merely rolled her eyes and began to walk away from the gate, most likely predicting that Arya would follow and she did. 

Arya hurried forward to catch the gate before it shut, pushing it open before going through it. Arya walked swiftly behind her mother, pulling her coat tighter around her as they walked. 

Suddenly, Arya was near knocked to the ground by a huge ball of fluff. She felt a velvet sort of wetness drench her face as Nymeria began to lick her. Arya began to laugh as the mass rolled even more on top of her. But her mother’s yell stopped all proceedings. 

“Nymeria, off her,” Catelyn yelled powerfully, “Now.” 

And Nymeria certainly did get off her, whimpering for pity as she jumped off Arya. 

Nymeria, for as big a dog as she was, was as scared as a little kitten when it came to Catelyn. All the dogs were. 

Arya began to sit up, watching carefully as her mother walked resolutely over to her, clucking in disapproval. 

Catelyn held out her hands, grabbing Arya’s hand without her having even offering them and pulled her up, seeming to almost dust her off. 

“Silly girl,” she scolded quietly, “You must be careful. That huge fluff ball could cause harm if she keeps knocking you over like that. You must be cautious.”  
Arya looked at her mother in surprise but before she could say anything Catelyn had turned and was walking over to where the dog food was kept. 

Arya starred after her mother in confusion for a second, before looking down to a happy Nymeria who was dancing around her feet. 

She smiled, climbing down onto her knees, throwing her arms around the dog and pressing her cheek straight into her soft fur as she pat her.

“Hey girl,” she said quietly as she hugged Nymeria, “I’ve missed you.” 

Nymeria whined in agreement with her lady as she nuzzled her head into Arya’s neck, licking whatever skin she could find as she burrowed even further into Arya’s arms.  
Arya could feel a few of the other dogs moving behind her in an attempt to get her attention but she only had eyes for Nymeria. She kept hugging her puppy, burying her head in Nymeria’s now overgrown fur. It was so comforting and warm. It almost felt like she was home at Winterfell again. 

“We really have been here in this city for too long girl,” Arya whispered into Nymeria’s fur, “We need to go back up north soon.” 

“There’s something we agree on,” she heard her mother’s voice mutter from somewhere close. 

Arya peaked over Nymeria’s fur to see her mother walking over the dog bowls with a bag of feed, battling her way to get through the dogs who were now yapping all around her feet eager for their food. 

Nymeria soon recognised the call for food and hastily abandoned Arya, in order to get to her bowl. Arya watched her go from where she was sitting as all the dogs crowded around their bowls, chugging down their food. 

Slowly Arya got herself off the floor, her eyes darting around to look for her mother until her eyes finally found her, putting the dog food away and locking it all up.  
Catelyn turned around, meeting her daughter’s eyes. 

Arya didn’t know what she should say. 

She was not going to apologise that was for sure. She refused to apologise for a child, let alone one that wasn’t even born yet. It was no way to start your life, being apologised for by the people who made you. 

So she settled for something less.

“I didn’t know you would be here,” Arya mumbled out, “I thought Dad usually fed the dogs.” 

“Your father has been busy recently so I have been doing it,” Catelyn responded as she walked forward, stopping to pick up her handbag that she had put down, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it becomes my job permanently. Your father seems to be busy a lot these days, since we came to this… city.” 

She said the final word with such disgust that Arya smiled. 

Another thing we have in common, we both wanted to stay up North, she thought. 

But Arya just nodded, uncertain what to say. Uncertain if she should even reply at all. 

“Did you drive here?” Catelyn asked. 

Arya glanced up at her mother, looking into her eyes. 

“No I didn’t, I took the bus,” she said quietly, “I’m sure if I call Jon or Gendry they will come and pick me up soon. I want to play with Nymeria for a bit and then I’ll go.”  
She stopped. 

“If you leave the key I will lock up behind me,” she said politely. 

“Don’t be silly Arya,” her mother intoned, “I will drive you. Play with the dogs for a bit, I’ll wait.” 

Arya wrinkled her brow in confusion at her mother’s words. 

Catelyn seemed to notice. 

Catelyn sighed.

“Oh Arya, you’re my daughter, I don’t think you quite get what that means just yet,” Catelyn said in a long-suffering voice. 

Arya brow again creased in confusion. 

Catelyn walked closer, catching her daughter’s hand in one of her own for a brief second before letting it go and gently raising both her hands to capture her Arya’s face.  
“It means you’re stuck with me forever. It means no matter what you do and how it disappoints your old conservative mother or how mad I get or anything, I’ll be there forever” was all her mother breathed out quietly, “and anyone who comes out of you, not matter what the circumstance, gets the same deal.” 

Catelyn gave Arya a faint smile, leaning to press the ghost of a kiss against her forehead, before letting go and walking somewhere behind Arya, presumably to wait for her.

A feeling settled over Arya. It was indescribable at first it was so poignant. It could have been relief, or it could have been happiness. But Arya knew it was too much to simply name. But it felt good, it felt light and happy and complete. She felt her lips curve up into a smile. 

She knew that one day she would have to tell her mother how much she had hurt her. How much it hurt when she had screamed at her to get out of the house. But right now she knew that today was not the right day to do that, to ruin what had just happen. Right now she was just going to have peace with her mother, even if it was just for a little while. 

She felt fur brush at against her ankle as Nymeria came back to her after she had eaten. Arya smiled down at her before they began to play. 

******************************************************

 

Gendry heard steps approaching the door before he heard the jingle of the keys to confirm that it was someone who lived with him. He immediately dropped the spoon that he had been using to stir some tea as dread filled his stomach to the brim. 

God I hope its Jon, he said fervently, please, please let it be Jon. 

The door opened and a mop of long dark hair peaked through it. 

Arya.

Gendry’s stomach instantly plummeted. He felt his throat go slightly dry as Arya looked up at him with a wide smile of her lips and contentment in her eyes. 

She looks happier than she has been the past few days, he thought fleetingly. 

“Oh hi,” she said, giving him an even wider smile, “I didn’t know if you would be around or …” 

She gave a cursory shrug of her shoulders in explanation. 

“I’m sorry for leaving before, but I felt like you two needed sometime to work through all … that without me there, breathing down your necks,” she said sincerely, “What happened? Where is…” 

Arya trailed off once more as Gendry’s bedroom door opened behind them and a voice sounded out. 

“Gendry I’ve moved some of your ski gear to a box under the bed to make room for some of my clothes, is that ok…” Willow said, before trailing off as she spotted Arya in front of the open door. 

Gendry watched as Arya’s mouth dropped open in shock for a second as she stared at Willow, dressed in bedclothes, acting like she was at home. 

Which she pretty much is, a voice in Gendry’s head reminded him briefly. 

Gendry’s head turned to look at Willow, who was standing there with a single raised eyebrow, staring right back at Arya. 

Neither girl was staring with any sort of cruelty in their gaze, but rather both merely seemed unsure and surprised at the others presence. 

Gendry awkwardly looked between them for a second before trying to jump in. 

“Um, so I should introduce you properly,” he mumbled unsurely. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” Willow’s voice spoke from behind him, her voice coming closer as she stepped directly behind him, “I mean we are probably going to be seeing a lot of each other for a while…” 

She trailed off, her eyes willingly skipping for a beat down to Arya’s slightly rounded stomach. 

Willow stepped in front of Arya, giving her a small smile and extending her hand. 

“Hi, I’m Willow,” she said with another slightly strained smile. 

Arya’s mouth snapped closed as she looked to the girl in front of her. 

Arya did not move with her usual brash confidence. She was uncertain, Gendry could tell. Rather it was a careful smile that she gave Willow as she extended her hand out to return her handshake. 

“Hi, I’m Arya. Arya Stark,” Arya answered quietly, giving Willow an awkward smile in return that came out somewhere between a grimace and a grin, “its nice to meet you properly even after all those years at the coffee shop.” 

They shook hands and for a second, Gendry could have sworn that not only was the energy in the room biting but so where Willow’s nails into Arya’s hands. But Arya did not even flinch. Rather the tension peaked at their handshake and then slowly began to fade away as their hands released themselves from each other. 

“Its nice to meet you too,” Willow said tightly. 

In spite of her seemingly kind welcome, both Arya and Gendry could sense an underlying coldness within her that they both knew probably wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. 

An awkward but loaded silence settled over the three of them for a second until they heard the lock turning with once more although with much more difficulty. 

All three heads turned around as Jon entered the room with a quiet curse word. Jon looked up to see all three of them staring at him and stopped dead in surprise. 

“Uh hi, why are you all standing at the door?” he said slowly in a confused manner that had his brow wrinkled in concern. 

Gendry let out an awkward laugh. 

“No reason,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “I was just introducing Arya and Willow. Say you haven’t met Willow have you? Jon, Willow, Willow, Jon.” 

“Why you do have a short memory, mi amor, I met Jon a while back, although only briefly,” Willow said, looking at Jon with a bigger smile than she had given Arya, “Its nice to see you again.” 

“Likewise,” Jon said with a grin, “Glad you’re back, Gendry’s missed you I think.” 

He paused before adding “And I am truly sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank-you,” Willow said in a voice that had suddenly become thick with emotion, “Its very kind of you to remember.” 

Jon bowed his head before glancing around him to the small crowd that they had all unwittingly created. 

Jon put an arm around Arya, pulling her in and kissing the side of her head gently. 

“How are you?” he said looking at his little sister with a special smile that he always saved just for her.

Gendry could have sworn he saw Willow’s eyebrow go up three notches as she watched the two of them. Gendry turned to her and noticed a cunning look entering her eyes.

Arya snapped out of whatever was happening in her head, turning to look up at him. 

“I’m good, how was your day?” she replied. 

Jon shrugged before looking around the little crowd still huddled in the doorway of the apartment. 

“Are we going to move away from the door or is this the new living room or something?” Jon said with a cocked eyebrow. 

Gendry snorted. Jon’s complete lack of ability to read an awkward situation had suddenly become so useful as they all broke apart, shuffling off to wherever they needed to be as Jon walked into his room to dump his bag in there.

Jon wasn’t out of the room long and Gendry could tell he wasn’t the only one who was grateful for his presence, Arya particular seemed happy to see him when he reappeared almost instantly. He was looking down at his phone, quickly typing something. 

“So,” he said, looking up from his phone and sliding it into his back pocket, “Are we eating or… I mean I can cook if you want? Gen normally does more of the cooking because he’s slightly better in the cooking department but if you want to help Willow settle back in, I’ll cook dinner?” 

Everyone was silent for a second, before suddenly they all jumped in with resounding agreement. 

“Or we could just order a pizza?” Arya suggested, looking hopeful. 

Jon let out a laugh, nudging her shoulder with his. 

“Still craving pizza?” Jon asked, giving her that smile that Gendry knew he saved for Arya. 

“Please I don’t have to be pregnant to crave pizza, I always want it,” Arya retorted, grinning back. 

Gendry let out a snort.

“So takeout then?” Gendry asked as he ruffled his hand through the menus next to the fridge. 

“Why don’t we go out to eat?” Willow suggested with a look on her face that Gendry couldn’t quite decipher, “It’s a nice night and it would be nice to get out.”

Her eyes darted up as she looked quickly between Jon and Arya, before continuing. 

“It can be a double date of sorts?” she said with a trill of laughter. 

Jon let out a roar of laughter at that.

“Sure I’m up for it if you all are,” Jon replied, before his eyes looked cheekily down at his sister, “What do you say Ar? Want to be my date for the night?” 

Arya looked haughtily up at her brother. 

“Well in a perfect world I’d rather not, but there are worse people I suppose,” she answered with a teasing smirk, “Though not many are worse than you, big brother.” 

Gendry saw Willow’s jaw drop. 

“You’re brother and sister?” she stammered out, her eyes flickering between them. 

Gendry answered for them this time.

“I’m surprised you couldn’t tell,” he said, “They look so alike. I think that they could be easily mistaken for twins.”

“Nah, Arya’s too short to be my twin,” Jon interjected, throwing his arm around her shoulders. 

“Shut up,” Arya gritted out, shoving his body off hers. 

Jon laughed, before picking up his keys. 

“I’ll drive,” he offered. 

They all started to shuffle off to their respective rooms to get ready. 

“Wait, I was meant to be meeting an old friend for a drink tonight,” Gendry said suddenly, “Maybe we could go to the pub where we are meeting up with him instead?” 

Everyone agreed with a nod and they all broke off to do what they needed to do before they left. 

As Gendry walked with Willow into his room, he felt his shoulder sag in relief. That wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be, Gendry thought as he looked at Willow who was beginning to change. 

Gendry was still glad to be going out, there was no way that even someone thick as Jon wouldn’t notice the tension between the three of them if they stayed holed up in his apartment. A new atmosphere with more people would be much better. 

“You enjoying the view or something,” Willow’s voice floated into his mind. 

The world came back into focus as Gendry realised he was staring directly at Willow, who was topless and looking back at him with a smirk on her face. 

Gendry smiled wanly at her. 

“Sorry,” he apologised, “I was in my own little world.” 

She walked over to him, reaching up to press her hand to his cheek before stroking it back through his hair. 

“That’s fine, mi amor, tell me is there anything on your mind,” she inquired gently. 

Gendry went to shake his head but stopped as he considered. 

There was a lot on his mind. He was stressed. He had absolutely no idea how to navigate this entire situation with Arya and Willow and all the feelings that came with it.  
“I’m just …” he paused for a second, looking up at Willow before sitting back on the bed with her still in front of him, “Thank-you for being nice, I know this is all a bit of a weird situation…” 

Willow was quiet. She gently lowered herself onto his lap. Gendry’s arm automatically wrapped itself around her waist, bringing her closer. 

“Gendry, I’m not going to lie and see its easy to see you around her or to see that she had your child inside her, but that child is half you and I can’t help but care for anything that has some of you inside it,” she reasoned softly, “I know I gave you a hard time when I first found out and well I was in shock. And I will try harder with Arya. I know was a bit cold when we first met but I’ll warm up to her. She always seemed nice, or not bitchy least.” 

Gendry smiled.

“No she’s not bitchy at all,” he affirmed, “She is really nice, very down to earth and very blunt.” 

He looked to see Willow, examining him, before he continued. 

“I think that you will get along well.” 

“I hope so…” Willow concluded, before she turned on him with this look in her eye, “But in the mean time, let get you undressed.” 

“You mean dressed right?” he said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Hmm not sure I did actually…” 

******************************************************

“I might text Sansa actually, to see if she would want to come with us?” Arya said to Jon as they got changed in his room. 

Jon nodded, his shaggy curls bouncing along with him. 

“Sure, would be nice to see her,” Jon said, “She’s been a bit quiet recently actually.” 

“You’ve noticed too then?” Arya said in agreement, “I don’t usually notice this side of Sansa, so out of curiosity, does this happen a lot?” 

Jon laughed before his eyes turned sombre once more as he shook his head. 

“Well she has her down days, I mean, don’t we all?” he answered, “But she not the type to go missing from the face of technology.”

Arya nodded distractedly, fiddling with her phone. 

“Will you text her or should I?” Arya asked him, looking up at Jon as he pulled a nice shirt on.

“Why does it matter?” Jon said, “Just do it.” 

“But I feel like Sansa has been avoiding me lately,” Arya mumbled, before peaking up at Jon, “So maybe you could do it big brother?”

Jon looked down at her, eying her with confusion, his brow slightly wrinkled before rolling his eyes. 

“Pass me my damned phone,” he grumbled before beginning to mutter under his breath, “You’re lucky to have a brother like me.” 

Arya smiled, darting over to retrieve Jon’s phone before walking up behind him and handing it off.

Arya wrapped her arms around Jon’s neck, planting a kiss between his jaw and his cheek before burrowing her head in his neck. 

“I am lucky to have you,” Arya murmured against Jon’s neck, feeling her stomach drop as she spoke, her voice dredged with emotion, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Jon said something but Arya didn’t listen. She just pressed her face further into Jon. 

For a moment, she thought what it would be like to be without him. She felt her heart go cold. 

She knew he was going to be angry when he found out about Gendry and she also knew that it was inevitable that he would find out. However it was the actual telling him that Arya struggled with. That and the fallout she would deal with once she actually bit the bullet to tell him. She might lose him for a bit, but Jon would come back. She had to believe that. 

Ill do it tomorrow, she promised herself, I don’t want to ruin tonight, so I’ll do it tomorrow.

She felt arms snake around her as Jon said her name, catching her attention. 

“I swear Arya, this pregnancy is mellowing you out completely,” Jon teased, “Soon you’ll be sobbing to puppy adverts or something like that.” 

At that, Arya shoved Jon away from her, rolling her eyes as he chuckled at her.

“I will not be,” she huffed, “Now hurry up, we don’t have a million years for you to do your bloody hair.” 

With that she flounced out of the room leaving a laughing Jon in her wake. 

*************************************************

As he looked around the pub, Gendry was surprised that this particular pub was this busy on a Thursday night. Every other time that he had come here with Jon since they had returned from deployment, it had been empty or at the very least near to it. But now the place seemed to be thriving. 

As soon as they entered the pub, Gendry eyes immediately scanned the area for Aegon who was of course nowhere to be seen. 

He felt a hand slip into his. Gendry looked down to find Willow looking up at him with a sweet smile.

His heart squeezed unpleasantly for some reason. 

“Where’s your friend, Gen?” she asked.

Gendry’s eyes darted around the room once more, before looking back down at his girlfriend. 

“He’s not here yet. Aegon’s always late,” he said before letting out a laugh, “The fucker claims he always wants to make a bloody entrance. Why don’t we get a booth while we wait for Arya and Jon.” 

Willow nodded, near skipping over to a free booth in the corner of the pub. 

“Do you want me to get some drinks?” Gendry said before he sat down, his eyes flickering down to look at Willow. 

Willow cocked her head.

“No, not yet, wait for the others. Come here and sit with me first,” she said invitingly, patting the seat next to her.

Gendry slide into the booth, feeling himself impatiently beginning to shake his leg under the table. 

He felt Willow’s hand slide soothingly on to his leg.

“As impatient as ever I see,” she said with a laugh. 

Gendry looked over to her, nodding his head with a smile. 

“Do you remember that time that I was 15 minutes late for something, I can’t even remember what and you…” Willow started with a laugh. 

“And I literally walked around the block a few times so I would have to sit there waiting for you,” he finished for her, a dopey smile on his face, “Yes I remember. I tend to get a bit irrational when I’m told to wait.”

“Only a bit?” Willow questioned with a raised eyebrow and a resounding laugh. 

He gave her a smile, nudging his shoulder into hers. 

“Don’t be mean,” he said playfully, “I am the way I am.” 

She let out a laugh, resting her hand on his arm gently.

Gods this is so easy, Gendry thought in passing as Willow laughed, before threading her fingers between his. 

“I know and I love you for it all,” she said. 

Gendry felt like he got his heart stuck in his throat at that. 

The tension between got thicker and more awkward as Willow finished her sentence quietly. 

Gendry didn’t say anything. What was there to even say to that?

It would have been a complete lie to say that Gendry harboured no love for Willow any longer. He just wasn’t quite sure what kind of love it was anymore. It was an awful feeling to know someone loved you, but you didn’t know if you loved them back in the way they deserved to be loved back. 

“I know it’s a day full of deep conversations but I want to say I’m sorry,” Gendry gasped out, “for how this has all turned out between us.” 

Willow frowned in confusion. 

“But it’s all turning out well,” she said, an air of hopefulness in her voice as she spoke, “And it will continue too!” 

She squeezed his hand. 

“Perhaps but I still did wrong by you and I’m sorry,” he said. 

Willow sighed softly. 

“I know you love me, Gendry, you always did,” she affirmed gently, “Even if everything’s messed up at the moment. I understand, I mean you have a kid on the way with someone else and all your loyalties are being pulled six ways. Just be patient, even though I know it’s not your forte but will all clear up as time passes. The important thing is that we are together and working through this.” 

Gendry watched her as she spoke. Willow just seemed so sure of herself. 

“And as I said I will make an effort to get to know Arya,” Willow said, looking slightly trouble yet hopeful, “so that its all easier on you when the baby comes and you watch it will all work out…” 

“And if it doesn’t?” Gendry questioned, cutting her off, “If it doesn’t work out like you think it will.” 

Willow looked almost perplexed by his question. 

“The only reason it wouldn’t work out was if there was no love between us,” she said calmly, looking at lot surer of herself that he thought she must feel, “And there is, unless…” 

Gendry never got to hear the rest of her sentence as his name was called from behind him. 

Gendry looked up to see Aegon walking towards him with a drink in hand and a bright smile on his face. 

Gendry felt himself returning the smile as his blonde friend came toward him, getting up to greet him. 

“Waters, it’s been too long,” Aegon began, shaking the hand that Gendry held out while slapping him on the shoulder. 

“I saw you a couple of days ago mate,” Gendry said with a grin, as he returned the handshake, “Unless you don’t remember that? I mean I can’t help but think that with you, we both know how you like to drink and fuck memories away.” 

“Yes well once upon a time you too lived this brilliant, solidary life, but alas no longer as I see,” Aegon said, his eyes sliding to Willow who had remained in her place behind Gendry, “Gendry do you always have beautiful women at your fingertips? First Arya, and now…” 

“Yes, sorry, this is Willow,” Gendry said quickly, turning around to let Willow out of the booth, “Willow, this is the man-child I have told you so much about…” 

“Please I can assure you that no part of me has been remotely child-like for years,” Aegon said with an air of self-assured cockiness, “Aegon Targaryen at your service.”  
Willow let out a giggle before sliding her hand into his as they began to introduce themselves. 

Gendry just rolled his eyes. Aegon had that sort of effect on women. They were always just charmed by him. 

It was part of the reason that he had been surprised by Arya’s blatantly obvious dislike of the Targaryen. She had been almost immune to his charm and Gendry could say he had not been disappointed by that fact. 

Speaking of, he thought, raising his head to run his eyes around the room until his eyes alighted on what he expected to see. 

“Ah, there’s Jon and Arya,” he said, interrupting whatever talk Aegon and Willow were engaged in. 

As Jon and Arya drew closer it was apparent that Jon was dragging his sister toward them. 

“I assume she is being dragged due to my presence here,” Aegon said under his breath to Gendry, “I must say I can’t resist a woman who can resist me…” 

“Yes I had noticed that particular fetish of yours but Arya’s not out for that Aegon, leave her be.” 

Next to him, Gendry heard Aegon let out a murmur of “We will see” before chuckling as he stepped forward to greet the new arrivals. 

Gendry’s eyes darted towards Aegon for a minute. Aegon had this look on his face, one that Gendry had seen before when he set his eyes on something he wanted to fuck. 

He would be having more words with him if his friend had not taken his fuck eyes off Arya by the end of the night.

“Ah so we meet once again fair Lady Arya,” Aegon said, looking at the girl with a charming smile. 

Gendry felt Willow stiffen beside him in surprise but she didn’t say anything. 

Arya looked at him, raising an eyebrow at his manner. 

“Yes, hello,” she said briefly, before turning to look at them all, “I am going to get drinks, what would everyone like?” 

Everyone was shouting out their drink order until Jon interrupted. 

“You can’t order drinks,” Jon accused, looking at his sister in annoyance.

“So I’m guessing you missed the part where I turned 18 then?” Arya snapped back, before turning on her heel and stomping off to the bar. 

Jon let out a chuckle as he watched his sister go. 

“Sorry about that,” he said as he turned back around, “She is just so easy to anger these days. Its so very amusing.” 

Gendry snorted before introducing Aegon and Jon. 

They all sat down, chatting between themselves as they waited for Arya to return with the drinks. 

But when she didn’t return after fifteen minutes, they all grew impatient. 

“Where the hell has that girl gotten to now?” Jon growled in annoyance, “How long does it take for you to get a damned drink around here.” 

Gendry lifted his head, looking around the pub for Arya. 

“I’m going to go and look for her,” Jon said, beginning to stand up. 

“No you stay here Jon, I’ll go and check on her. I want to change my drink order anyway,” he said, standing up and starting for the bar. 

Gendry made his way through the small crowd that had formed in the pub. He couldn’t see Arya anywhere. 

Maybe she’s left or something, he thought as he examined the room. 

But then he spotted her. 

She was sitting close to some man in a booth, who was looking at her like she was a delectable treat for the taking. He was obvious he was using every opportunity he had to touch her. At that very moment, he was stroking her hand as subtly as he could. 

Can’t the draft idiot see that she bloody pregnant, he thought in annoyance as he watched the little spectacle; she just had to wear a loose top. 

He slowly went up to her. 

As his shadow covered her, Arya looked up, her eyes catching his. 

Her gaze faltered for a second as they stared at each other before it was replaced by a calm but unreadable expression. 

“Did you order the drinks or were you just going to leave us to ‘dehydrate to death’ as Jon so eloquently put it about 10 minutes ago?,” Gendry asked her, looking darkly down at where she was sitting, completely ignoring the man she was with, “He’s getting rather impatient.” 

“Sorry I got distracted, I’ll do it now,” she said, starting to get up. 

“No don’t worry about it, I’ll do it,” he said rather sharply, “you stay here since you....” 

Gendry couldn’t even finish the sentence so he spun around and walked towards the bar, feeling bloody angry for some reason. He felt like he had been gut punched, except instead of just feeling some pain, he had felt both pain and anger at whoever gut punched him. 

He was so angry that he would have sworn his hands were vibrating with rage. 

Fuck I just want to hit something, he thought. 

He didn’t even remember walking to the bar or ordering all the drinks. All he could think about was what he had just seen. 

That guy had been a jerk. They had known each other fifteen minutes and he was already stroking Arya’s hand and looking at her all … lecherously. It made Gendry feel not only angry but remotely ill. 

“What was that all about?” a voice came from beside him. 

Gendry followed the voice to see that Arya had slid up next to him, leaning against the bar like he was. 

“What do you mean?” Gendry asked through slightly gritted teeth. 

“You little internal hissy fit,” Arya said immediately, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“I didn’t have a hissy fit,” he snipped back sulkily before continuing, “I just don’t think that this is the time for you to be picking up random guys at bars. You are nearly 4 months pregnant after all. Although clearly that wasn’t a consideration.” 

Arya blinked in surprise at his statement before her face turned hard, her mouth turning into a sneer. 

“And why do you even get to care?” she growled back, “We aren’t together.” 

“You have my kid in your stomach,” he snarled back at her. 

Arya was quiet for a beat, before she looked up at him. He could tell she was pissed. 

“That doesn’t mean you get any say in who I screw. I’m not putting the baby in any danger by having sex as long as I know what I’m getting into and use protection, in fact I’m sure your friend, Aegon was it, would be more than happy to help me out in that department…” she sneered before being cut off as Gendry slammed his fist into the counter making several girls next to them jump. 

However, neither got a chance to speak as suddenly the bartender was in front of them, depositing all the drinks on the bar for them to carry back. 

The moment gave them a chance to breath, step out of the little bubble that their brief fight had been in. 

Gendry went to grab all the drinks but paused on feeling Arya’s hand press on his arm. 

“You can’t control what I do, Gendry, we have never been together and we aren’t together now. It doesn’t matter what may have been, we aren’t together. You can’t be having little jealous fits…” 

“I wasn’t,” he protested immediately, looking at her indignantly. 

Arya gave him an unbelieving look but continued speaking. 

“Nevertheless, you have moved on. You are with Willow, screwing her I’m sure, and I’m happy for you,” she said, giving him a smile that he could not discern as sincere, “so you have no say in what I do and even who I do. You never did.” 

With that, she took some of the drinks before walking back over to the table everyone was sitting at.  
He watched her as she walked. 

She’s right, he thought slightly troubled as his eyes followed her as she sat down with a smile, laughing as Jon sulked. 

I have to let her go if I’m going to be with Willow, he thought. 

But Gendry could help but feel troubled but that idea. 

He sighed and began to make his way back to the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good karma for all who comment!!


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its been WAY too long!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone!! Back with another chapter! I feel like this is a bit of a filler but already started on the next one so it will be up when I can get it up!! Also check out my AxG Week Responses if you want to!!! Doing it late but I felt like giving myself a challenge!! No pressure though! 
> 
> Hope you like the chapter, let me know! 
> 
> Also actually been reading fanfics a lot more recently and I just want to take a second to encourage everyone to start writing if you don't and feel like you want to!! I feel like this whole ship's page is quietening down and I just want to read more!!! I know there will be some awesome writers out there, so please people keep writing!!

Arya was boiling with rage as she sat next to Jon, keeping her eyes firmly away from Gendry, who she knew kept glancing at her every so often. She was almost aggressively tapping her the side of her cup. She was fuming 

It was immature but right now all Arya wanted to do was look up and poke her tongue out at him. No one could stop her. It was what she would bloody well do if she wanted. No one was telling her to do any differently. 

Just the mere thought of that set her off all over again. 

The nerve of that man, she seethed as she thought on what had occurred only twenty minutes ago at the bar, to think that he could tell me what to bloody well do, that’s a feat not even my parents have yet achieved. 

Big stupid man, she growled to herself. 

Arya’s irritation, and what sounded like a stream of continuous growling, must have been fairly obvious as everyone, Jon particularly, kept shooting her looks. However no one commented on it until Jon finally piped up from where he was sitting, one seat down from Arya. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jon said, leaning toward Arya from behind Aegon, who was sitting between them. 

Arya glanced at him in annoyance. His face was a bit flushed from drinking and a dopey smile was there in full force as his eyes focused on her. 

Arya looked back down at her mineral water, unwilling to answer. She took a sip of it, stalling for time, hoping Jon would just piss off enough that he would stop looking at her for an answer.

“Nothing,” she muttered shortly, “Just tired.” 

Arya heard Jon sigh before he looked away from her, answering something Willow said to him. 

“Now I don’t quite believe that and I don’t even know you well,” a voice from beside her said quietly. 

Arya rolled her eyes. 

“You’re right…” she said turning to look at Aegon, “You don’t know me that well so piss off.” 

She turned away, hoping Aegon would leave her alone now but instead he let out a laugh.

“I always did like a woman with fire in her belly,” he said lustily, “But tell me what’s wrong? I hate seeing such a beautiful woman so sad when she could be so much happier, especially in my presence…” 

“Wait let me guess, only if she’s under you,” Arya snipped back. 

“Now, now, not necessarily…” Aegon stopped her with a small, playful frown, “She could be on top, or sideways or on her hands and knees or any matter of other ways…” 

Arya smacked him lightly on the arm but let out a small laugh. 

“Well you won’t be making me ‘happy’ through any of those means, so I suggest you give up the idea now,” Arya replied lightly, giving him an indulgent smile.

“Well that’s not what you told Gendry before,” he pointed out. 

Arya turned to look at him carefully. 

“You heard that?” she asked, shame in her voice as her eyes flickered up to Gendry, who was talking to Willow. 

“I did,” he stated before purring, “and I honestly think its a shame, we could have so much fun together.” 

“You do know I’m pregnant right?” Arya deadpanned. 

Aegon nodded. 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he said with a shrug. 

Arya rolled her eyes. 

“Well as kind as that is, I think I’ll pass for now,” she paused, “And the foreseeable and unforeseeable future.” 

“I’m hurt,” Aegon said, pressing his hand against in heart, feigning agony. 

“I’m sure,” was all Arya said with a light laugh. 

“But in all seriousness, what is the matter with you two?” he said, lowering his voice as he looked between them with a cocked eyebrow. 

Arya sobered instantly as she remember their little disagreement. 

“I don’t react well to control as you probably guessed,” Arya said with a careless shrug. 

Aegon nodded, waiting for her to continue but Arya shook her head, pushing all her thoughts away. 

“Its nothing I want to talk about right now,” she said shortly, “it’s just nice to be out and I’m hoping that …” 

“Arya,” said a breezy voice from Arya’s right. 

Arya’s head snapped towards the voice, her lips quirking into a delighted smile as she saw her sister. 

“Sansa,” she said as she struggled to get up as fast as she was able to, “I’m so glad you came.” 

Sansa gave her a weak smile. Arya felt her sister falter slightly when Arya came forward to hug her but still wrapped her arms around Arya to return the hug. 

“How are you?” Arya asked immediately as she examined her sister, her hands still clinging to Sansa’s, “It has been so long, I have been worried about you, Sansa, why didn’t you return my calls? You always respond to my call, I was so worried that…” 

“Arya, take a breath and give Sansa some space,” Jon called across Aegon once more, “Hey Sans.” 

Sansa gave Jon a smile, leaning over Aegon, who huffed at being continuously disregarded, to give Jon a kiss on the cheek. 

Arya immediately shuffled back into her seat, pushing everyone to make room for Sansa in the booth. 

“Come and sit down,” Arya invited, patting the spot next to her. 

Sansa’s eyes darted around the table, presumably noticing the rest of the party staring at her. 

“I’ll just get a chair…” 

“No don’t be silly…” Arya’s eyes darkened in annoyance as she saw Gendry, who was sitting on the other edge of the booth opposite her, “You come and sit here. Gendry can get a chair.” 

With that Arya started pushing insistently against Aegon, which in turn pushed Jon and therefore everyone else seated in the tiny booth. With a wordy grumble that Arya choose not to pay attention to, Gendry stood up, shooting Arya an aggravated look, to find himself a chair. 

Sansa smiled wanly, climbing in to sit stiffly next to Arya. 

Gendry smiled at Sansa as he sat down in his newly acquired chair. 

“Nice to see you again, Sansa,” he said warmly and Arya felt her cold demeanour towards him melt a little bit, “Everyone, this is Jon’s and Arya’s sister, Sansa.” 

Smiles and hellos were exchanged across the table. Arya watched Sansa from the corner of her eye. She seemed pretty normal other than having a slight delicacy about her that she had been inflicted with since her time with Joffrey. However other than that she seemed fine. 

But Arya was still worried. She just couldn’t help it. Sansa was not acting like her usual self or at least, Arya didn’t think that she was. 

Arya turned to her sister, casting an apprising gaze over her. She desperately wanted to ask her what was wrong but she had a feeling Sansa would not want to talk about anything remotely private in front of all these strangers. 

“So how are you?” Arya said lightly, giving Sansa as sweet a smile as she could muster. 

It felt rather wrong. Arya never was one for sweet smiles. 

“I am well, just been busy. How have you been?” Sansa replied, her smile seeming slightly more forced and a bit more formal than it would have been a week ago.

“Fine,” Arya said, her eyes keenly examining her elder sister, “I didn’t know if you would come or…” 

Arya trailed off uncertainly.

“… but I am really glad you did.” 

Sansa’s entire demeanour seemed to melt a little at that. 

“So am I,” she said sincerely before pausing, “I’m sorry I haven’t been answering your calls. I haven’t been answering anyone’s really. I have been trying to deal with some stuff recently.” 

Arya reached out, tugging her sister’s hand into her own. 

“I know I am probably not the person who you would want to talk to but you know I am always here Sansa,” Arya said gently. 

“I know,” Sansa assured her, “but there are some things in life that we have to do on our own.” 

Arya nodded with a thoughtful look on her face. 

“Still though…” 

Arya didn’t have to anything else. Sansa just nodded her head in understanding. 

“So you’re Jon’s sister, its nice to meet you officially,” a voice spoke, “I’m Willow.”

The two girls looked up from their own little world with a start to see Willow now sitting opposite them in a causal fashion.

Sansa gave the girl a smile that Arya could tell was slightly fake.

“Hi, its nice to meet you,” Sansa said unsurely, examining the girl carefully with a light smile. 

“I work at a coffee house that you have come into a lot over the years with your sister,” Willow reminded her, sensing Sansa’s uncertainty over who she was. 

“Oh of course,” Sansa said, her entire face lightening considerable, “I remember now. Sorry, I didn’t recognise you! I knew I knew you but where from was harder to summon to mind.” 

Willow gave her sister an easy smile, shaking her head. 

“It’s fine,” she reassured her, “I probably wouldn’t have recognised you if I hadn’t already met Arya here.” 

Sansa returned her smile with ease, nodding her thanks. 

“So, how do you know Arya and Jon?” Sansa said conversationally. 

Arya froze for a second. 

Since Sansa had been avoiding her, Arya hadn’t been able to inform her sister of the new developments that occurred. 

“I don’t actually,” Willow said quietly, her eyes flickering uncertainly over to meet Arya’s for a second before jumping back to Sansa, “Gendry’s my fiancé so I met them through him.” 

“Oh…” Sansa stuttered, looking taken aback to say the least. 

She turned to her sister, eyes scrunched in confusion.

Arya looked at her sister, widening her eyes with meaning as if trying to communicate telepathically. 

Willow let out a melodious laugh and Arya felt like stabbing her in the neck with a toothpick for some reason. 

“Well I guess we are all old friends of a sort,” she said sweetly, giving both girls a gentle smile. 

“Yes well you have been ‘coffee girl’ for years now, haven’t you?” Sansa said in a snarky tone that Arya would admit she was grateful for. 

However if Willow picked up on this, she said nothing. She merely smiled, nodding in merriment as she raised her drink to her lips once more her eyes sliding to Arya’s for a second before bouncing back between the two girls. 

“Yes I suppose I have,” she said after a moment, glancing down at her drink, running a nervous finger around its rim a few times, “but I suppose I’m more than that now, right?” 

Willow gave an awkward laugh, shuffling her body uncomfortably. 

“Yes I suppose so…” Sansa said flatly.

Willow looked like she wanted to say more but she didn’t have time as Jon interrupted them all. 

“Sansa, Arya lets go somewhere else,” Jon said, his brow darkening while his eyes looked stricken, darting back and forth between the two of them.

Arya frowned in confusion at Jon’s sudden change. 

“What? Why?” Sansa said in confusion, “I just got here…” 

Jon’s eye focused on something behind them and Arya turned her head to look over her shoulder. When she saw what Jon had seen, she let out what sounded a lot like a growl. This prompted Sansa to turn around, letting out a gasp as she saw what her two siblings had. 

There standing at the bar was Joffrey Baratheon.

“What’s wrong?” Willow’s voice wafted into the forefront of their minds, snapping each of the siblings out of their daze of thoughts.

Sansa snapped her head around to look at Willow at once, smiling tightly. 

“Nothing,” she said, in a collected, tight voice, “Nothing is the matter at all.” 

“Let’s leave,” Jon pleaded, looking at his sisters, “We can go back to our apartment.”

“Its fine, Jon,” Sansa soothed, “We’re here with your friends. We can’t just leave.” 

“Yes and I can take him,” Arya growled as she watched Joffrey laugh with his cronies with predatorily eyes. 

“No I don’t think so,” Jon said, quickly cutting through his sister’s psychopathic tendencies, “Lets just go. I don’t want to have to deal with the little fucker and Arya, you’re in no fit state to deal with him either. Lets just go.” 

“Go where?” a voice asked. 

All three siblings heads snapped to look at Gendry who was looking at them all with a confused frown on his face. 

“Its none of your concern,” Arya instantly snapped, feeling sour as she looked at his concerned expression. 

“My sister’s ex-boyfriends at the bar, mate,” Jon explained, throwing an annoyed look at Arya, who merely rolled her eyes, “So I think we are going to take off to avoid a scene.” 

Jon looked nervously toward Sansa, who looked like she was in a bit of a daze, staring at Joffrey with a nervous look on her face.

Gendry’s eyes flickered back and forth between the three siblings before he finally spoke.

“Okay,” he said, “Do you want us to come with you? I don’t mind leaving early…” 

“No…” Arya growled, glaring at him. 

Jon cast a scowl at his sister before, tapping her lightly on the shoulder in reprimand. 

“No don’t worry,” Jon said, “Stay and enjoy yourself, I’ll take the girls home and…” 

Jon was cut off by a small whimper and everyone’s eyes snapped toward Sansa, who seemed to have cowered into the chair. 

“He’s coming over here,” she gasped out in horror, sinking back even further into the booth that they were sitting in.

By this time, everyone at the table was staring at Sansa, who had her eyes fixated on Joffrey Baratheon, who was in fact making his way over to their table, a smirk of twisted delight on his shrivelled up face. 

\- 

Sansa couldn’t feel her feet anymore. 

It was strange the things you thought of when something terrifying was about to happen to you. 

Right now all Sansa could think was that she couldn’t feel her feet anymore in spite of the pinch her shoes had given her when she had forced her feet into them earlier. 

“Sansa…” 

Sansa could hear her name being called by Jon but she couldn’t bring herself to turn and look at him. Instead she kept staring at the smirking arsehole coming toward them. A hand slipped into hers, tugging at her. 

“Sansa, get up, Jon’s right we’re going,” Arya said smoothly, beginning to push her toward the edge of the booth. 

But despite Arya’s quiet insistence, Sansa sat as still as stone where she was. Not moving, not even daring to breath. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t my beautiful fiancé,” Joffrey sneered, raising his scotch filled glass in a mocking little display of false celebration, “How are you, Sansa? It’s been too long. I’m almost hurt, I mean, have you been avoiding me?” 

Sansa wanted to retort, wanted to say something so cutting back that that sneer would be taken right off Joffrey’s face but she couldn’t even muster the strength to open her mouth as they stared at each other, Joffrey smirking while Sansa was just stunned.

“Well I’ve certainly been avoiding you for years so in the interest of that, I think we will be going,” Arya said suddenly, beginning to forcibly push Sansa off her seat, “Come on Sansa. Jon drove me here, you’re driving me home.” 

“Ah the other Stark bitch,” Joffrey jeered, “Didn’t see you over there Arya. My eyes tend to block out ugly, horse faced little girls.” 

All three men at the table stood up abruptly, each face painted with anger but before any of them even made a move, Arya herself stood up, pulling Sansa up with her. 

“Fuck off Joffrey,” she said simply as she pushed past Sansa before pulling her with her so that she was sandwiched between her and Jon.

Arya opened her mouth to say more but Sansa grabbed a hold of her hand, internally urging her to just shuffle past Joffrey and away. 

Joffrey however was not one to let anyone just shuffle away. 

“Wow, Stark, knocked up are we?” Joffrey sneered as his eyes roved down to her stomach, “I feel like I should congratulate you on finding someone who would actually fuck you …” 

Jon seemed to snap at that. He let out a growl before shoving past his sisters, standing in front of them protectively. 

“Want to say that again?” he said, his voice as cold as ice, “You know I was on deployment last time you messed with one of my sisters. I’m not this time…” 

That was one thing about Jon. When others were hot headed and quick to be angered, he was cool, calm, collected and deadly. He radiated that sort of energy. If Joffrey had any remote amount of intelligence, he would pick of on that and stay away. 

“Oh Jon leave the boy alone,” Arya spat, “He couldn’t take anyone on. I mean I think little Rickon could take him down without too much struggle.” 

Joffrey’s face twisted to be even more enraged. Sansa let out another whimper as her mind took her to the past, back to what that kind of look would have meant for only less than a year ago. If she had seen Joffrey’s eyes flash like that before, she would have cowered in the interest of protection. She would have seen the fist before it even came. Maybe she would have even screamed in terror before he even raised a hand. 

Arya must have noticed something on her face because within a second of thinking all of that, Sansa was once more being pulled insistently by her younger sister. 

“Now move out of the way like a good little boy and go run back to mummy and daddy before Sansa unleashes Jon and I on you,” Arya cooed cruelly. 

Joffrey moved forward, his eyes narrowed in hate. 

“You don’t scare me, Arya Stark,” he spat at her, “And neither does the bastard that you call a brother…” 

It didn’t take another second for Arya to launch herself, screeching, at Joffrey. Her fingers had turned to claws and Sansa knew Arya wanted to beat him bloody. It wouldn’t have been the first time Arya beat a boy bloody. Thankfully however it took about half a second for Sansa to hear what Joffrey said and predicted exactly what Arya would do next. Sansa tugged on Arya’s wrist until she could get an arm around her waist. She hurled her sister back with all the strength she possessed which was not a lot against an angry Arya. 

“Arya,’ she said urgently, “Stop, you’ll hurt the…” 

Sansa would have continued but at this stage she knew that Arya wasn’t going to hear a word she said. 

However thankfully, Gendry stepped in, standing in front of the still lunging Arya. 

“I don’t know who you are but I think its time you go,” Gendry said firmly, crossing his arms as he spoke, his tall frame towering over Joffrey’s. 

Gendry would have been an intimidating sight to any man but not Joffrey. 

Joffrey glared up at him before a manic look entered his eyes and he let out a sickly delighted laugh.

“No I don’t know who you think you are but I am Joffrey Baratheon and my family owns this entire city so I recommend you get out of my way and don’t bother me,” he said, looking utterly delighted as he pressed his glass into Gendry’s chest several times as if to make a point. 

Gendry frowned, looking confused more than anything. 

“Anyway I think my work is done here,” he said as he drank the rest of his drink in a single gulp. 

Joffrey tossed his glass behind him, swaying slightly but not even blinking as it shattered. He always had been careless but now Sansa rightly guessed that he was probably drunk right now. 

“I’ll catch up with you later Sansa,” he spluttered, a cruel glint shining in his eye, “Sometime when I can catch you alone.” 

A shiver of fear ran through Sansa at that as she watched him spin around and saunter back to the bar. 

Although she was standing there silently, Sansa’s mind and heart were racing. 

She didn’t know what she was more likely to do right now, cry, scream or collapse into a bubbling mess. 

It took a minute for Sansa to realise that Arya was actually calling her name quietly. When she awoke from her vacancy, Sansa was mortified to see that everyone on the table and surrounding ones were staring at her with an expression of horror and pity. 

Sansa’s heart snapped a bit at that. 

“Can we just go?” she said weakly to Arya, looking at her little sister with pleading eyes. 

Arya nodded wordlessly before tugging her along while Jon said their farewells.

“Are you okay?” Arya said urgently as soon as they broke into the fresh air outside. 

Sansa looked up at her sister. She knew what she must look like. Eyes dazed in fear, shaking like a leaf. 

“Lets go home,” she whispered. 

“Lets go back to Gendry’s,” Arya whispered, “I think it would freak Mum and Dad out if they saw you like this.” 

Sansa nodded, following Arya blindly, barely even registered Jon walking steadily behind them. 

\- 

“We really should do this more often…” Sansa said from her position upside down on the couch, “We haven’t done it since we were children.” 

“I never did this when we were kids,” Jon grunted uncomfortably as he shifted once again as he too hung upside down on the couch. 

“But you’re doing it now because you know I’ll hurt you if you don’t,” Arya teased him. 

“Yet another reason why I prefer you, Sansa.” 

A firm smack resounded through the room. 

“Arya, that bloody hurt,” Jon yelped, his face contorting with pain. 

“Grow up you big baby,” Arya muttered under her breath, earning a scowl from her brother. 

“These days it often troubles me how much I wish I could hit you back,” Jon said unpleasantly, “Hard.” 

Arya just huffed. 

“Stop taking up so much time up talking about your problems,” she complained before turning back to their quiet sister, “We are here to talk about our sister’s issues. Not yours.”

It was Jon’s turn to huff in annoyance but he stayed quiet and turned toward Sansa who was suddenly confronted with identical sets of grey eyes boring into her.

Jon’s eyes were softer and more understanding while Arya’s were angrier, more insistent on getting the truth out of her. Those were the eyes that she feared. 

“I’m fine,” Sansa asserted quietly. 

“You’re fine now,” Arya corrected, “Now that you’re away from that arsehole.”

“Well I won’t disagree with you there,” Sansa conceded, “it’s much better for my sanity to be far away from Joffrey.” 

“I’m so glad you see that, Sansa,” Arya said with relief shining in his eyes, “Even after all that you went through after he… hurt you, I was always scared that your fear would push you right back into being with him…” 

Sansa looked pensively at her sister. 

“I can’t say I didn’t have the same concerns for a time after I finally left him,” Sansa confessed, avoiding her siblings keen eyes by looking up at the roof, “but that final time in hospital, that time when you were still in Braavos, ensured that that would never happen.” 

Arya’s eyebrows furrowed at that. 

“What why…” 

“I think I’m just going to make us something to eat,” Jon interrupted, looking keenly at his sisters before struggling to get out of his upside down position.

“You just want to sit up,” Arya teased as he walked toward the kitchen, “Special forces my arse.” 

Jon ignored her and Arya soon turned her inquisitive eyes onto Sansa once more. 

She didn’t say anything, giving Sansa some time to gather her thoughts. 

Sansa knew once some of the story bubbled from her lips, inevitably the rest would soon follow. 

“After you went back to Braavos,” she started slowly, mincing her words carefully, “I went to see Joffrey one last time, just to get my things and…” Sansa paused, “And I thought it was high time that I showed him I was strong enough to face him, that I was no longer scared of him. However obviously you can see that’s still not true…” 

“I don’t see that,” Arya interrupted. 

Sansa cast a dark look at her before continuing, her face growing sombre and pained. 

“That time was worse than all the others,” she said, “Much worse. I don’t think I will ever experience pain like that. It felt like every bone in my body was broken. What was worse though was the humiliation that Joffrey was able to do that to me after I had made such progress getting away from him… I was back at his mercy… actually it felt like I had always been at his mercy, in his control, I was just too stupid to know it…” 

Arya grasped onto her sisters hand, clutching it tightly in support.

“He left me on the floor, bleeding the middle of the apartment we had shared and it wasn’t until Sandor found me a couple of hours later, unconscious that I got help.” 

Sansa took a deep breath in, trying to dispel her mounting anxiety. 

“I was in hospital for days. The only person that really knew at first was Jon and then later Mum and Dad.” 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone else?” Arya breathed, “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have been back in a second…” 

“The only reason Mum and Dad knew was because I needed them and the only reason Jon knew was because he was the only one in town when I was first admitted to a hospital and they needed a next of kin,” Sansa explained, “And the reason I didn’t tell you was because…” 

Sansa paused, taking a rushed breath in. 

“Was because you already thought I was stupid and weak for years, rightfully so… I didn’t want you to think that again, I didn’t want to lose anymore of your respect.” 

“Sans…” 

“No let me finish,” Sansa interrupted, her eyes beginning to well up with tears, “I know that you’ll always love me but I wanted your respect and I was dealing with things…” 

Sansa took another deep breath that turned into a bit of a sob. She wiped a tear off her forehead. 

“There is a reason I’ve been avoiding you since the ultrasound,” Sansa gasped out, “Is because the day after Joffrey beat me, I found out that I couldn’t ever even have children. That’s why…”

Arya’s grasp tightened even more and Sansa finally brought herself to look at her sister. In that moment she knew that she didn’t have to say anything else. Instead Arya just shifted, so they were even closer, lying shoulder to shoulder, beginning to stroke her hand with a gentle movement. 

“I want you to know I am happy for you…” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Arya said soothingly as she threaded her fingers through Sansa’s. 

“Its just…”

“Its hard, Sansa,” Arya finished gently, “Given the circumstances, no one would expect this to all be easy for you.” 

Sansa nodded, another tear making its way past her eyebrow. 

“Maybe we should sit up,” she said tearfully, “Can’t ruin my make-up by crying into my mascara.” 

Arya let out a bellow of laughter as she struggled to get up. 

“There’s my sister,” she said fondly, stroking Sansa’s hand in a loving gesture, “There’s the sister I love so much.”

Sansa paused, meeting Arya’s gaze shyly. 

It was a rare day indeed when Arya told anyone, but perhaps their father, that she loved them. 

“I love you too, Ar,” Sansa proclaimed, launching forward and wrapping her arms around her, “It means a lot that you’re being so understanding. I have been horrible to you.” 

“You haven’t,” Arya argued. 

“Actually, Sans, its me that you’ve been horrible to,” Jon cut in dramatically, coming back from the fridge with an opened yoghurt, “Since you decided to disappear for a few days, I, your darling brother, have had to be at our bossy sister’s beck and call… oh how I have suffered…” 

Sansa let out a laugh as Arya leant over and hit Jon hard once more, laughing when he sniped back at her. 

Oh to be happy, she thought as her mind drifted peacefully. 

-

Willow was nice, Arya decided as she watched Willow eat her breakfast with Jon at the table while Arya sat on the couch with Sansa who had stayed the night.   
It was unbelievable but Arya couldn’t come to any other conclusion other than this girl had to be a nice person. 

Beside the occasional strained smile or awkward silence, Willow had been exceptionally kinder to Arya in the days after their first meeting than a lot of other girls would have been in her place. 

Arya would have understood hatred. She would have been comfortable with hatred but this kindness kept her unsettled. 

What were her motives? 

In Arya’s experience, most girls were not kind where their boyfriends were involved. 

It had all started this morning when Arya had walked groggily out of Jon’s room without Sansa, who had refused to get up with her, looking for the source of the delightful smell that was wafting in from the kitchen. 

She expected Gendry to be cooking. He had been the only one cooking while that Arya had been living at his apartment. However to her surprise it was not Gendry but rather Willow who was flipping pancakes at the stove. 

Arya froze in surprise and almost turned to sneak back into her room but Willow must have heard her earlier footsteps as she angled her head around, her eyes instantly skipping to Arya.

“Hey, do you want some breakfast?” she said immediately, looking back down as she flipped the pancake in front of her again. 

Arya remained uncertainly where she was for a second before she nodded, moving forward. 

“That would be great if you’re cooking. Do you need me to do anything?” she said formally. 

Willow looked over at her, a teasing glint seeming to enter her eyes. 

“No offense girl but you just don’t seem like the type that can cook,” she said with a genuine smile. 

Arya blinked in surprise before smiling. 

Something told her that this was Willow’s attempt to start a friendship and Arya would be damned but she instantly thought that she could like this girl. 

“Well that was bitchy but none the less true,” Arya said with a grin as she strode forward and leant on the counter top, “I could burn boiled carrots.” 

Willow let out a laugh, a smile of appreciation lighting up her face. 

“Don’t worry, Gendry was the same before I taught him to cook,” she said easily, scoping out the pancake in the frying pan and putting it onto a plate, “It is a skill that can be learnt. I’m sure you’ll master it someday.” 

Arya smiled. 

“Well thanks for the vote of confidence but we can only hope and pray.” 

Willow let out another laugh as she poured more batter into the pancake. 

“So where’s my brother?” Arya asked conversationally before pausing awkwardly, “And Gendry?” 

“Gendry went for a run and I think Jon went with him but I could be wrong, I got up after both of them,” Willow said, not seeming to mind Arya asking after Gendry as she answered, “Is your sister awake?” 

“No yet,” Arya said, clicking her tongue in impatience, “I tried waking her up but she wouldn’t get up. She doesn’t feel the allure of food like I do…” 

Willow laughed. 

“Speaking of food,” Willow said, walking over to her and gently placing down a plate of pancakes on the bench in front of Arya, “Dig in.” 

Arya smiled gratefully before ploughing into the pancakes, almost moaning in appreciation as she ate. 

“Hungry?” Willow deadpanned. 

“You have no idea, these are so good,” Arya moaned, “I’m so hungry all the time now, seriously you would think this baby would be too small to make me so hungry…”

Arya trailed off as she realised who she was talking to. 

She looked up at Willow guiltily but was rather surprised what she saw. Willow didn’t look angry or sad or even indifferent. She looked like she was listening carefully; her smile was kind and attentive. 

“Of course you’re hungry so eat up,” she urged when Arya didn’t finish her sentence. 

Arya began chewing once more, feeling herself becoming painfully awkward. 

“Arya, I…” Willow began before she was interrupted as Sansa came out of Jon’s room, finally awake. 

“There you are you little demon,” Sansa said upon seeing her sister, “You woke me up with your shaking and now I can’t get back to sleep.” 

Willow smiled as Sansa stalked over to Arya, leaning onto the counter directly next to her. 

“I just want you to know that I did not appreciate it,” she finished with flare. 

Arya just snorted while Willow laughed again. 

Sansa seemed to notice that they weren’t alone as she turned her eyes to look at Willow, who looked rather complacently back. 

“Willow, isn’t it?” Sansa said, tilting her head to the side in evaluation. 

“Yes, we talked in passing last night,” Willow said with a smile before her face became sombre, “Are you feeling better? You seemed really upset last night to say the least.” 

“Yes thank you,” Sansa said smoothly, narrowly avoiding being stabbed by a fork as she broke off a piece of one of Arya’s pancakes, “Just ran into a particularly unpleasant old boyfriend.” 

“Unpleasant is really the word you’re going to use?” Arya said with a snort. 

Sansa smiled, nudging Arya’s shoulder. 

“Fine, total jack arse.” 

“Better,” Arya said with approval. 

“I’m sorry,” Willow said sweetly, “Bad break ups with shitty boyfriends are the worse. That’s how I met Gendry you know.” 

“Really?” said Sansa, casting an uncertain look at Arya with curious eyes, “How long have you and Gendry been together?” 

“Well excluding our recent break,” she said in a strained voice, her eyes resting on Arya for a second before flitting back to Sansa, “We have been together for 5 years since Gendry was 19 and I was 17.”

Sansa nodded, looking like she was about to ask something when a door slammed from behind them. 

“Morning,” Gendry said as he strode in with a paper in one hand and his iPod in the other, going toward the kitchen. 

“Morning,” Willow greeted back cheerfully with a happy smile, “Do you want some pancakes?” 

Gendry looked up, taking in the entire scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow before cautiously shaking his head.

“Its fine, I’ll have a juice,” Gendry said slowly. 

Willow nodded before turning away. 

“Where’s Jon?” Sansa asked quickly as Gendry walked towards his bedroom. 

“He’s not too far behind me,” Gendry called back, “He was on the phone. He’ll follow in a couple of minutes.” 

Sansa looked toward Arya, her brow crinkled in concern. Arya could feel her face mirroring Sansa’s. Deployment, that’s what they were both thinking. 

It didn’t take long for Jon to join them and thankfully he looked stupidly happy when he came into the room. 

“Well I don’t think I’ve seen your face look so dopey since you had your first date with Ygritte,” Arya teased when he came through the door. 

“You weren’t around for my first date with Ygritte, we were in the middle of Kazakhstan when we started seeing each other,” Jon deadpanned as he stole a bit of her pancakes as well. 

“First date back in England,” Arya reminded. 

Jon chuckled before smiling shyly in thanks as Willow offered him some pancakes silently. 

Jon engaged Willow in conversation so Arya walked to sit on the couch, taking Sansa with her. That was how she had ended up sitting there, thinking how lovely Willow was in the first place. 

“So should I hate her or are we trying to like her?” Sansa asked with curious eyes. 

Arya rolled her eyes at her sister’s question before she grew sombre. 

“If anyone should hate anyone, she should hate me,” Arya said soberly, “I did sleep with her boyfriend.” 

Sansa shrugged. 

“They weren’t together at the time,” Sansa said reasonably, “Don’t be hard on yourself.”

Arya nodded, before taking another bite of her pancakes. 

“She seems nice,” she said suddenly as she watch Willow laugh at something Jon had said. 

“She does,” Sansa allowed. 

“She seems like a girl I would be friends with,” Arya said, chewing her food thoroughly as she paused. 

“She does,” Sansa repeated. 

“So I should try to be friends with her, shouldn’t I?” Arya asked. 

“Well that’s up to you,” Sansa replied, “She could be in your life for a long time yet if they end up getting married.” 

Arya nodded as she considered the truth of that. 

If Gendry married her, Willow would be a fixture in her child’s life and Arya would do anything to make their life as simple and easy as possible. 

It would be better if they could get along, Arya thought reasonably, its not like she was jealous or ill at ease around Willow. 

On the contrary, Willow seemed sweet as though she was trying her very hardest to be nice. 

“Maybe we should invite her somewhere with us?” Arya suggested mildly, looking at Sansa, “She has made an effort, I want to as well.” 

Sansa nodded with uncertain eyes but nodded nonetheless.

“Maybe she could come shopping with us, you’re getting too big for your clothes,” Sansa proposed. 

Arya nodded. 

“Sounds good, I’ll ask her.” 

Arya began eating again, wolfing up the pancakes as she half listened to Sansa complain about Margaery and how she kept avoiding her.

“You can have more pancakes you know,” a voice came from behind her, “They aren’t going anywhere.” 

Arya’s eyes flickered upwards almost unwilling to see Gendry walking past her with an amused smirk. 

Arya immediately looked back down. She was still beyond pissed at him. 

Gendry seemed to get the hint that she did not want him talking to her. He kept walking until he was standing next to Willow. She smiled when she saw him, offering him a piece of pancake on her fork. 

Arya didn’t know why but when Gendry smiled before eating the food off his girlfriend’s fork, Arya’s heart seemed to sink a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Let me know!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came to my mind!! let me know if you all want me to continue!!


End file.
